


The Incomplete Light of a Shadow

by saucyminx



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-20
Updated: 2010-02-20
Packaged: 2017-10-28 09:32:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 40,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/306447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saucyminx/pseuds/saucyminx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was something different about Dean, Sam knew that from the beginning. But then again, there was something very different about Sam as well and the truth might just enough to destroy the world. (non-brothers)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Prologue

Azazel's eyes narrowed, the predator's instinct in him flaring. _Could this small wiggling creature be the one he was looking for?_

The baby blinked up at him, small hands curled tight into fists, arms moving jerkily against the blanket that covered him.

"We shall see," Azazel murmured. His voice startled the baby, his tiny doughy features wrinkling for a few moments as though he might cry. "Shhhh," soothed Azazel, "if you're the _right_ one you're going to have a lot to look forward to."

The demon pulled a long silver knife from deep in the folds of his jacket. If the baby had been able to make any sense of what was going on - he would have seen the glint of moonlight on the blade of the knife as it slid through the skin of the demon's forearm. Hissing at the pain, Azazel's lips curled into a wicked smile. The memory of knife-sharp pain and pleasure would mingle together in his memory.

Holding his bleeding arm above the tiny baby the Demon's eyes flooded with yellow. The glowing sickly colored orbs locked on the baby's face as a pearly drop of blood dripped into the baby's mouth. _One_. The baby flinched almost as though struck. _Two_. The baby's small mouth moved slightly, lips pressing together and then opening. "Three..." a final drop of blood fell into the tiny mouth and the baby simply blinked up at the Demon, a slight smile playing on the tiny blood stained mouth.

"The one," Azazel whispered.

"Get the hell away from my son." A gruff voice spoke from the doorway and Azazel rolled his shoulders slowly.

"Tiresome," the demon muttered.

There was nothing difficult about killing the baby's father. Humans were so fragile, not hardy at all when it came right down to it. The baby's father was no exception; his spine snapped easily as Azazel slammed him against the nursery wall with a flick of his wrist.

The first tentative cry came from the baby as the body of his Father crumpled to the floor as easily as a pile of discarded clothes would.

Of course, the mewling infant brought the Mother. She ran into the room, all flowing in a white night gown with her long blonde hair. Her scream shattered the air in the room. Azazel allowed himself a few mere moments to enjoy her fear then his fingers waved forward and she slammed against the wall above her broken husband. She screamed the scream only a protective Mother could. The sound was angry and edged with threat. All her fear was hidden somewhere deep inside her as the protectiveness surged to the forefront.

The baby's cry became a wail and Azazel glanced down at the reddening face as tiny fingers curled into a fists so tight his hands shook. The Mother's face darkened, blood rushing to her skin, mouth open and gasping for the air that wouldn't come.

Azazel released the mother, withdrew his powers the moment she stopped being a human and became a corpse.

It was the most piercing sound that came from the baby that rattled him slightly. His tiny body was rigid, cheeks tear-stained and hands flailing helplessly.

"That's my brother."

The voice was tiny and absurdly brave. Azazel raised his hand in the direction of the small sound then he stopped, head tilting slightly to the side. Wind whipped into a fury against the window pane, the house creaked as the atmospheric pressure dropped slightly. A muscle twitched along Azazel’s jaw and he turned quickly, leaned down and scooped up the baby with one hand. "Think we'd best be leaving now." He couldn't risk losing the first child, _not_ this one. His long coat swept past the face of the small boy still standing in the doorway, "good luck little guy." And he was gone.

-=-=-=-

Sam's patience was wearing thin. And, _that_ was saying something. If Sam had learned anything while growing up it was patience. Unless, of course, it was to do with pleasure of any kind. If that were the case then patience really didn’t make sense. _Get what you want_ It was Sam's motto, it was what Azazel bribed him with even now. For certain, there was a fondness for the yellow-eyed Demon in Sam's heart - after all - the creature was the closest things to a father Sam had ever had.

Sam Ford. Samuel to Azazel. His eyes scanned the restaurant roaming over the faces of small children. He was growing so tired of his game; he sifted through thoughts in the room. There was no one. It was getting more and more difficult to find the children. Lifting a mug to his lips Sam inhaled the mild scent of his tea. He remembered being as young as these children, maybe four or five years old before it occurred to him that there was something odd in his life. Odd... in that his father figure was a Demon. Oh, Sam had never been mislead, never been told he was inhuman - he knew exactly what he was and knew perfectly well that he had a foot in more than one reality. It was a fine line he walked and he knew it. Even as a child Sam recognized the fact that his position was tenuous at times.

Leaning back in his seat, watching the crowd come and go around him go he allowed his thoughts to drift back to his youth. Sam's first memories were of strange faces, never the same people twice - looking back he knew now that these were vessels. His first constant memory were the golden eyes of Azazel, those eyes were his home.

Sam had learned a few lessons from Azazel. Sam's first lesson had been that emotion was the weakest side of human nature. Azazel had made it his top priority to ensure that anything remotely resembling an emotion, a fleeting care, brief concern was squashed before it developed. Any demon's vessel that Sam grew attached to would disappear; any object he drew comfort from was removed. And thus, Azazel moulded Sam into an independent creature, uninhibited by humanitarianism and unburdened by _human_ emotions.

Sam had learned quickly to trust no one. Even the words of the yellow-eyed demon were deceptive. The world that nurtured Sam was full of twists and turns, hidden curves and other mysteries. By the time he was about six years old Sam knew that nothing and no _one_ was permanent. Nearly everything that was said was a lie or misdirection and nothing was what it seemed. Once he'd accepted his twisted reality for what it was it became strangely freeing. There was no regret for Sam in a world where he relied on only himself.

As Sam grew up, Azazel's interest in him grew. The yellow eyes would peer down at Sam from the face of whatever vessel the demon had taken a liking to. There was always blood. _Blood_. Sam would sit at Azazel's feel waiting patiently until he was offered a bleeding wrist. Heat would spark up in his belly, anticipation, the scent wafting toward him ahead of Azazel's torn flesh. Curling small hands over Azazel’s wrist Sam would lick at the wound, already having learned to tease himself. He'd torment himself with the taste - the salty thickness of it; the dirty undertone. And when his small heart was aching with _need_ he would seal his lips over the wound and draw as much blood in as he could. Each mouthful coated the inside of his mouth, his throat and sent Sam's mind reeling, tilting his world. Too soon, the Demon would pull away leaving Sam twitching and half-conscious on the floor as his body fought hard to absorb the sinfully rich blood. Sometimes, if he drank too much or too quickly Sam would fall ill. He would shiver and quake; curled on the floor where Azazel left him. There were no creature comforts and, come morning; it would be up to Sam to crawl to the bathroom to clean himself up.

Oh yes, there had been so many lessons over the years. Sam's favourites had come in his later years. Torn down by the demons, dehumanized they began to build Sam from scratch. He was taught to focus on what he wanted, to be selfish and self-serving; taught to feel only the physical joys of being human. The Demonic teachers schooled him in the art of lying, manipulation and made sure that Sam matured thinking of his own body as a perfectly designed weapon - a key - a tool - a way in. They taught him that he was beautiful with his long auburn mess of hair and chiselled jaw. Many a demon liked to stare at his slanted hazel and he suspected more than one fantasized about slipping inside him.

Azazel kept a tight reign on the Demons who worked with him. They were allowed very little access to Sam beyond training him and seeing to his personal hygiene. It was a strange life.

By the time Sam was fifteen years old he was more demon that human in spirit.

-=-=-=-

Part One

It was bright and sunny out, one of those days that silently called to all those trapped indoors, urging them out to partake in soul warming sunshine. Quite possibly this was what pulled Dean Winchester from his research, though he couldn’t honestly say it wasn’t fate. There were often moments in our existence that resonated like a stone dropped in water, rippling out in expanding circles. Choosing to close his volume of Ancient Mayan lord and head out into the warm, late spring afternoon sun was his proverbial stone.   
St. George, Utah was one of those places that seemed to collect an odd assortment of people and Dean enjoyed the act of people watching immensely. On this particular Wednesday Dean was treated to the wide assortment. A gaggle of teenage girls were hovering by the Willow tree down the block from Dean’s house and judging from the way they instantly fell silent upon seeing him, Dean suspected they were up to no good. He’d only just rounded the corner when they exploded into a fit of giggles and Dean couldn’t resist sharing a knowing smile with his neighbour as they passed each other along the sidewalks.   
The park was nearly always crowded with busy families and this day was no different. Happiness and pleasure seemed to be radiating from the bodies, intertwining with laughter and screams of joy and for awhile Dean stopped and watched. He had never known the devotion of a mother, though he knew he had once had one. And the sight of a father tossing a ball with his sons was enough to pull the smile from Dean’s face and send him on his way once more. No use picking at old wounds, the blood was always there and the scab always took too long to build.   
There was always a certain satisfaction in crossing the college campus if only because Dean knew people there and was, on more than one occasion, helpful to their situation. It was the thing he was good at, knowing things, finding things out. Learning things. Dean watched the students curiously as they crossed his path, catching the random, offhand comment about a particular teacher, an assignment that seemed unfair, who was hosting the midweek party. Something loud pierced the silence and Dean stopped in time to watch an Ambulance blare past from behind him, all red and blue lights, squealing siren. As one did, Dean wondered who had been injured, why the paramedics were needed.   
Next up was the business district and it was always bustling with people, crowded sidewalks a constant blur of suits and briefcases. Dean could get lost in the masses and could sink into a seeming normality where he was nothing but a man searching for the quickest distance from point A to point B. He could almost pretend he didn’t know more about the world than most; didn’t know truths most people were incapable of acknowledging.   
As always, the street was overwhelming and, if Dean were to suffer from claustrophobia, this would be the place where it was the most intense. Someone to the side of him swerved, side stepping to avoid a spilled cup of coffee dropped only moments before. The body just barely grazed his but Dean stumbled for a moment, overcompensating for the brush, shoulder colliding hard into a firm upper arm. On instinct his hand shot up to grab the curved muscles and steady them both. Dean looked up sharply, impressed instantly with the man’s height. “Excuse me,” he muttered as an apology before dropping his hand and stepping away.   
Sam's hand snapped out to curl around the stranger's wrist. Tilting his head sideways his lips quirked into a slight smile. _Nothing_. Not even the vaguest whisper of a thought from this... rather divine looking specimen. It was unsettling and yet, it was inviting. Someone he couldn't read, couldn't know instantly, and someone who was _really_ quite beautiful to look at. "Hey... don't run away so quickly." Turning on the charm, Sam let his hair fall forward over his eyes and widened his smile to show his dimples.   
There was something oddly unsettling about the firm fingers curled around his wrist and Dean turned his head down to peer at them before lifting his head up. "I'm sorry, did I injure you?" The man hardly looked like someone who could be injured by a simple brush of his shoulder but weirder things had happened. Dean's head tilted to the side as he stared up at the man, watching something unknown glint in his eyes.   
"Come and have a drink with me." Sam pushed at Dean's will, tugging on his wrist and knowing that the man would turn and walk with him easily. It almost made him sad, how easy it was to control the people around him... _almost_. He turned without waiting for the man to even alter his step.   
Dean watched the man move and frowned, stepping back and rubbing absently at his wrist. "I'm actually on my way to do... something. So uh, thanks but no thanks," he nodded politely and stared at the man for another long moment before turning and beginning to push his way through the crowd, shaking off the unpleasant feeling curling in his stomach.   
It was a few moments before Sam realized what had happened. Arching an eyebrow he watched the other man moving through the crowd then launched into motion. This could be _far_ more interesting than he'd originally thought. "Wait," he called out shoving at people to wind his way through the throng of bodies then finally giving into temptation and pushing at them with his mind. _Get out of the way_. A path cleared slowly in front of him and he moved quickly up to the man's side, walking backwards as he tried to catch his eye. Green eyes flashed up at him, a strange expression. Still nothing. Sam's lips curled up. "Come on. Just one drink."   
"I don't make it a habit to share drinks with random strangers," Dean curved an eyebrow up at him, studying him silently. This was certainly an unexpected outcome for a situation not planned for. Glancing around them Dean noticed people seemed to be giving them a wide berth and his eyes widened slightly before he stepped back. "Maybe some other time," he nodded stiffly before turning once more.   
"Wait, come on..." Sam continued to walk backwards, keeping pace with him then half turned sideways when he started bumping into people. He had to let people move normally, it was too obvious. Turning on his charm he fumbled his way through the crowd, letting people run into him and knock him closer to the man. "Samuel Ford. My friends call me Sam..." He held out his hand.   
Dean's eyes shot to him for a moment, narrowing slightly before he turned and headed down the block, finding a less crowded section to walk along. Despite the sudden turn however, this Sam did not seem to be discouraged. "Okay, I'm flattered really but... like I said, things to do," he shrugged and slid his hands into his pockets, turning his gaze from Sam as he continued on his walk.   
Sighing, Sam jogged a couple of steps to close the distance between them again. "Okay, let me just put it all out on the line." Sam let a warm smile flood onto his face. "I think you're a really good looking man. _Really_ good looking." He couldn't help the way his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. "The thing is, when I look in your eyes - it makes me think there's a lot more there. Something maybe I should get to know. Someone important." It was a _half_ truth, and even that much honesty was unusual for Sam. "Please? One... coffee ... come with to the coffee stand over there and let me buy you a cup of coffee."   
Turning slightly, Dean glanced at the coffee stand before looking back up at Sam and frowning. For just a moment past too long he considered Sam with steady, unblinking eyes before he turned on his heels and headed across the street to the coffee stand in question. "I can buy my own coffee," Dean said resolutely and reached into his pocket to pull out a ten dollar bill.   
Slight smirk on his face, Sam paused for a few moments then walked off after the man. "You gonna tell me your name?" He fell into step beside him, "you wanna buy _me_ coffee?" Sam's voice had a teasing lilt to it. This fellow was going to be... fun.   
Glancing his way with lifted eyebrows, Dean gave a slight shake of his head. "I said I could buy my _own_ coffee. And it's only because I would have bought one for myself in a few blocks regardless of your presence." He glanced over at Sam for a long moment, considering him for another minute before turning back to the coffee stand. "Can I get one large coffee, black please?" Dean asked the man with a slight smile, paying for his order before stepping to the side to make room for Sam to place his own order.   
"I'll have the same," Sam tossed some money on the counter and leaned there for a moment studying the man's face, "wait, I want cream and lots of sugar." He glanced at the stranger out of the corner of his eyes, "I have a sweet tooth." It was remarkably strange to be standing next to someone and sensing nothing. He could have been alone and yet, it was alluring. Sam was intrigued by the idea that he had to pay attention to the subtleties of the man's expressions. There was a slight interest there, Sam was sure of it; the man's green eyes were sparkling in the sunlight and Sam was certain there was a curiosity there.   
Reaching out for his coffee Dean curled his fingers slowly around the cup before bringing it up to inhale deeply. It steadied his nerves and he stepped back as Sam was handed his coffee. "So, do you frequently harass complete strangers into having coffee with you?" Dean asked, lifting the cup to sip from, eyes staying locked on Sam as he swallowed the burning liquid.   
"Actually? No... I've never... well, honestly?" Sam grabbed his coffee off the counter, tasted it, winced and put two more spoonfuls of sugar in. "I've never chased anyone before... like this." Oh, there had been chases, just not the more _sexual_ kind. Smiling he gestured behind him with the coffee, "did you want to walk some more or sit for a few moments? Maybe... tell me your name?"

Dean started walking down the street once more, keeping his pace slow enough to suggest to Sam that he could join him without running the risk of getting hot coffee thrown into his face. "As I mentioned, I've got plans," he pointed out, taking another sip with eyes fixed on Sam before he looked forward once more. "And my name is Dean." In a flash his eyes shot to Sam, watching and then moved forward once more.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Dean." Sam smiled warmly and held out his hand once more wondering if Dean would reject his touch twice in a row. He was curious, couldn't help wondering if physical touch would allow him to actually _read_ the man.

A long, silent moment passed in which Dean stopped and stared at Sam, eyebrows pulling together. Reaching out he grasped Sam's hand in his and shook once with a firm squeeze. "Nice to meet you too," he nodded, voice sounding too forced and polite. At this point he wasn't sure if it was a nice thing or not.

 _Nothing_. Sam let his thumb ghost across Dean's palm as he withdrew his hand. "Well, you're an intriguing man, Dean. I appreciate you letting me spend a little time with you. Maybe..." Smiling again, Sam took a sip of his coffee, "do you pass this way often. If I hung around, pretending to be busy would I have a chance of seeing you again?" It didn't really matter whether Dean came back this way or not. It was just a matter of sending out the suggestion and he could find out at any time where the man was. This was definitely something he wanted to pursue. As Dean pulled ahead of him slightly, Sam let his eyes wander down the man’s body. Dean kept himself fit; his muscles were well-defined, forearms strong and tanned.

"I'm not certain that's a wise idea... Sam," Dean's head tilted to the side slightly, another moment of silent consideration. "But I guess we'll see what fate decides." Dean shrugged, turned, and started off down the sidewalk. After a couple of steps he halted and looked over his shoulder, "and don't follow me this time. The creepy stalker look doesn't suit you." Dean smirked, head dipping with a slight shake and chuckle before he continued once more down the path.

"I'm a firm believer in fate," Sam called out as Dean disappeared into the crowd of people. And, a firm believer that he controlled most of the factors involved in their meeting again. Dropping the coffee in the closest garbage can Sam closed his eyes for a few moments, head tilted to the side. Dean's presence was passed on to him for the most fleeting of seconds then... again... _nothing_. Sam hummed quietly, moving through the crowd toward his truck. "Dean," he muttered. _Finally_ , something interesting to occupy his time.

-=-=-=-

If Dean's mind was a little more out of it than usual than it was to be expected. Some things a person could never plan on. But he forced himself to remain focused on the text before him. He had made the promise to provide answers and allowing himself to be so thoroughly distracted was out of the question. Dean wasn't one to let his promises fall by the wayside. Still, his mind flashed with hazel eyes that were oddly dark and familiar. Something unpleasant and nerve laced curled low in the bit of his stomach and Dean sighed, rubbing the heel of his hand into his eyes as he let his mind drift to the random conversations of the diner around him. It never ceased to amaze him how oblivious people could be about the real world. "Vampires..." he muttered, forcing his eyes back on the page as he reached out for his coffee.

"Well, fate is working in my favour today it seems, Dean." Sam had started to receive slight warnings about Dean's presence an hour prior. Strange how the man was able to appear and disappear, he probably wasn't even conscious of it. "May I join you?"

Looking up at the man, Dean's head tilted to the side in his usual consideration before he closed the book and brought it down to his lap, gesturing to the seat across from him silently. This had been the first time he'd ventured out since their last encounter and some part of Dean had wondered if Sam was going to mysteriously turn up. "Were you aimlessly wandering around in hopes of finding me?" He asked, fingers curling around the warmth of his coffee mug.

"Would it win me any points if I were or just make me seem really pathetic?" Grinning Sam turned his coffee cup right side up and slid it toward the waitress when she arrived at the table. "You drink a lot of coffee; spend a lot of time awake at night?" Sam leaned back, getting comfortable, legs extending under the table so the denim of his jeans brushed against Dean's.

"No," Dean shook his head and watched the waitress pour Sam his coffee before topping off his own. When she had left he turned to Sam and arched an eyebrow, "you're putting a lot of effort into nothing, any particular reason for your fixation on me?" Dean chuckled softly to lessen the stiffness of the words, rolling his shoulder in a shrug, "besides me being apparently _really_ good looking?"

"You seem like an interesting man." Sam leaned forward, leaning one leg against Dean’s ankle. "I like interesting people." He sighed and shifted on his seat and rested his arms on the table. "There are a lot of people in my life, sort of peripherally. You... when I looked into your eyes, it was..." He shook his head and looked down. There was something in those eyes. Something almost familiar but he didn't want Dean thinking that he was a nutcase as well as a _stalker_. Shaking his head slowly Sam took a sip of coffee then shrugged.

Dean fell into silence as he thought over what Sam said, wondering what exactly the man saw when he looked into his eyes. "Maybe I'm just interesting to you because I wasn't jumping at the chance to spend some one on one time with you," Dean pointed out eventually, sipping from his coffee as he continued to stare at Sam. "I'd say you're more than the average level of attractive. You must have lots of people throwing themselves at you," Dean smirked, shaking his head as he dropped his gaze.

"Felt like I knew you... or if I didn't, I should. And... Okay, I'm no Saint," he tried hard not to laugh as he said it. Sam was definitely not a Saint. "But... you're different. I couldn't figure you out when I saw you and I liked that. I guess... I'm a bit of a solitary guy." Sliding his coffee away, Sam pressed his hands onto the table top. "You know? I'm sorry. I guess I just had a feeling about you and I don't get them often so I thought I would act on it - and... I'm getting that you're not interested." Smiling, he glanced up at Dean. "I wish you were... but I'll leave you alone if that's what you want." He could almost hear Azazel's voice in his head, _oh Samuel, so manipulative._

There was something suggestive about Sam's statement and Dean passed some time by drinking slowly from his coffee. Finally he set the cup back on the table and sighed, shaking his head as if resigned. "I let you sit didn't I?" Dean shrugged and settled back in the booth, finally acknowledging the warm heat of Sam's leg against his own. "I'm used to people being interested in me for all the wrong reasons," he pointed out, gentle smirk on his face. "And seeing as I can guess what path you would like us to go down with this, I'm assuming your reasons aren't exactly _pure_." Dean laid heavy emphasis on the last word, daring Sam with a look to suggest he was wrong.

"Do I think you're attractive?" Sam's eyes moved down Dean's neck, across the muscles under his tight t-shirt. "Yes." He smiled as his eyes moved back up to the man's face. "Is that the only reason I'm sitting here? No." He noted that Dean hadn't moved his leg and felt the tiniest spark of pleasure at the small victory. "If what I wanted was to just pick someone up - there are places I could go without putting nearly this much energy into it. _You_ intrigue me." Sam shrugged lazily as though that was all the explanation that was needed.

"Right," Dean nodded and drummed his fingers along the table top. He wasn't sure where to go from here, what should be said next. "I doubt I'm as intriguing as you may think," he pointed out quietly and wet his lips before looking up at Sam. "What do you do? What brings you to the middle of Utah?" Dean shifted slightly on the seat, swallowing as his leg slid along Sam's for just a moment.

"I'm kind of... an investigator. Working on a private case ... a missing child thing." Sam tried for a look of appropriate sadness on his face. He'd learned long ago that it was best to tell as much truth as he could when dealing with people. "What about you? Let me guess..." Definitely a pleasure to be with someone he couldn't read; it was like opening a well-wrapped present. "I would peg you as a teacher... or a lecturer or some kind."

Dean snorted and shook his head, eyes rolling up to the sky for a moment before dropping back to Sam. "No. I'm... an independent contractor," he shrugged and glanced around the room before reaching out for his coffee once more. "And not in the construction way if that's what you're thinking. I... know things. Learn things. Research things for people who don't want to do the researching themselves. Not nearly as... self sacrificing as your career," he smiled and gently shook his head.

Sam's brow furrowed slightly. "I'm... not self-sacrificing." Scratching at his jaw he tried to hide his discomfort at telling the truth. "Do you ever wonder if you're doing what you were meant to do? You said the other day that you'd leave it up to fate if we met again. Do you really believe in fate?" It was suddenly really important to Sam that he know the answer. The way he'd been raised, he'd been told that almost everything he did, every thought he had was predetermined. Sam was meant to be _the_ child that Azazel found, destined for his role, had no choice. This man, Dean, had sparked up some doubt in Sam's mind. There had never been another human being that Sam couldn't read in some way.

Dean thought it odd that the man would start in on the tough questions so early in the acquaintance. He had an opinion on the subject but he kept it to himself because the rustling inside him threatened questioning what he _knew_. "No," he said simply then blinked in surprise, turning away before Sam could recognize the look. "We make our own paths. Despite the consequences that lead us to that place. It's what makes us human," Dean tapped a finger on the table, rolling his shoulders under the uncomfortable pressure. "I suppose it's the very essence of a person," he mused quietly, feeling himself slipping into thought.

"So you think people..." the word felt foreign on Sam's tongue, "can be what they want - that they're not pre-destined for anything? What about the world around them - you know - the whole environment versus heredity argument?" Sam pushed his coffee to the side so he could lean closer, stare into Dean's eyes. This urgency to know what the man thought was bizarre, but then, Sam was accustomed to bizarre things.

"Heredity?" Dean scoffed, mildly surprised how bitter the word sounded. "I was shaped by my environment, sure, we all are. Everyone on a constant day to day change. The world morphs and changes because of things that happen but is the world destined to one inevitable fate?" Dean shook his head, sighing as the words only heightened the ill ease in him. Something flared and sparked in him and Dean closed his eyes to steady himself. "Suggesting every act is predetermined for us is suggesting there is no hope. Having no hope makes you question why you're even alive in the first place," Dean's eyes slowly parted and he met Sam's gaze steadily. "Do you often find yourself questioning your existence? Or is that something I bring out in you as well?"

Smiling, Sam tore his eyes away from the mossy green stare to look down at the table. "Oh..." What the hell was he doing? "I'm just making conversation. Was wondering if you really expected to never see me again... if this.. Is this the last time I'm gonna see you?" Trying to get a grip on himself, Sam leaned back against his seat and stretched his leg out. He watched the pulse in Dean's neck speed up slightly as Sam's leg rested hard against his.

Sighing softly Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, laying a few bills on the table top before sliding out of the booth and pushing up to his feet. His fingers hovered along the table's surface, inches from Sam's hand as he looked around the diner before dropping his gaze to Sam's. "No Sam, I don't think it is the last time. Maybe some things really are fate," he shrugged, shifting the book in his grip before stepping away. "I'll see you around," he nodded and headed down the row of tables to push open the front door and head out into the street.

Watching the man walk down the street Sam shook his head and laughed softly. If he had his way it wouldn't be that long at all before they ran into each other again. There was nothing wrong with having a little entertainment mixed in with his _work_ even if Azazel might think so.

-=-=-=-

Dean was of the opinion that everyone needed a good strong drink every now and again. With the way his thoughts had been over the last few days, Dean felt a drink was more called for than usual. Of course walking into the bar and spotting Sam near the far edge almost instantly did very little to calm his nerves. The man was leaning on his forearms, polished wood pressing against his skin, head turned toward another man to the right of him. Sam looked amused but not necessarily in a pleasant way, as if he found the person he was speaking too incredibly stupid. The man's features were flushed, clearly agitated by whatever it was they were discussing.

Sighing softly Dean shook his head and crossed the bar, catching the bar tender's gaze and smiling with a nod. A moment later a beer was pressed into his palm and Dean rolled to lean against his elbow and continue to assess Sam's interaction. The man's eyes were narrowed and he huffed a few times before storming off in the opposite direction. Dean's eyebrows lifted and he slid over the last few feet to bump his shoulder against Sam's, ignoring the flare of heat at the contact. "Pissing off the locals Sam? Not very nice of you," he observed before tipping the beer back and taking a long pull.

"Dean." Sam's face brightened instantly, as did his idea of how well the evening was going. "Well, _you_ are the most refreshing thing to appear in ... oh ..." he glanced down at his watch, "the last two hours?" Leaning heavily on the bar Sam turned his face toward the other man, close enough to catch the faintest scent of him. "I was lonely, came out to find someone to talk to." It wasn't entirely inaccurate. Sam had been bored. After an entire day of hunting for Azazel's newest potential pets he had felt like he deserved something a little more palatable. The bar was a perfect place to stir up some fights, poke into people's minds and rile them up. In short, he was there to create his own entertainment. But here again, the man Sam couldn't read.

"Clearly that went well," Dean nodded and glanced over his shoulder at the bar to ensure the man hadn't gone to rile up some friends and try to make a scene. People could be touchy; Sam seemed to lack the common sense as to what people to avoid. Or, maybe he was completely aware. Dean figured he didn't know Sam well enough yet to decide which it might be. Either way, Dean wasn't inclined to fighting random strangers in a bar so it seemed best to distract Sam from pushing any issues. "So, here I am. Someone to talk to I suppose," he shrugged and drained the rest of his beer, pushing it away before smirking at Sam. "You can buy me a beer."

Lips twitching into a smile, Sam gestured at the beer bottle when he caught the bartender's eye. "So... Dean..." he liked the way the name rolled off his tongue, "what brings you to such a den of inequity? You don't seem like the type to roam around in bars and nightclubs." Turning, leaning his hip against the bar Sam offered Dean the beer the bartender dropped off. He let his fingers brush Dean's as he handed off the bottle, the sensation quite pleasant even if it still didn't bring any insight into Dean's thoughts.

In truth Dean didn't drink that much and downing that first beer so quickly sent warmth through him, at least he blamed the feeling on the beer and not at all on the touch of the man's hand against his. "I'm not," he admitted, curling his fingers around the beer bottle and shrugging. "But everyone should have a drink every now and again. Felt like the right time. Fate," he huffed and shook his head, watching Sam with curious eyes. "How long are you in town?" Dean asked, making the question as casual as possible.

"For a while, kind of made it my home base for the time being. Why? You wondering how you're going to find me again? I could just give you my phone number now and - you can toss it later if you decide I'm not worth a second kiss." Sam's lips twitched into a crooked grin. "Fate... being what it is an all." _Fate_ \- Sam's slave driver. His eyes moved over the man's face, watching the slightest change in his breathing, the way his bottom lip moved almost imperceptibly.

"Second kiss?" Dean's eyebrows lifted as he turned completely to stare at Sam. "A little presumptuous of you," he pointed out, shaking his head as he turned back to the bar and brought the beer up to take a long pull. Things were sparking along his senses and Dean had to take a moment to calm the internal battle at the word's suggestion. And how inclined he was to go through with them.

"Well, I always try to have a goal in mind...reach for the stars - you know." Sam grinned and picked up his bottle for a mouthful of beer. He watched Dean's cheeks flush slightly in the dim light, it pleased him. The music behind them grew a little louder as the club kicked into high gear. Leaning closer to be heard Sam's chest was pressed up against Dean's arm, "you lived in town long? Are you from... here?" It was strange, the idea of someone being from a certain spot. Sam had no idea where he'd been born - only where he'd become... who he was.

"No," Dean shook his head and swallowed thickly, bringing the beer up to swallow a few deep mouthfuls. "I've been here for about a year," he offered, saying no more on the subject. The heat from Sam's body was radiating through him and Dean tilted his head to the side to stare at the place their bodies rested together. Lifting his gaze, Dean slowly wet his lips before turning away. "Problem with not drinking a lot, it's easier to forget how alcohol can be," he muttered, chuckling at himself and his inability to keep the thought inside.

"All alcohol does is tear down some of those walls we put up to stop people seeing who we really are, what we really want." Sam heart was beating a little faster, his eyes heavy lidded; this was just the thing he needed, a bit of a challenge. "What do you really want, Dean?" Shifting slightly Sam leaned back on his elbows, stretching out his legs and presenting Dean with as much as he wanted to get a look at. He was suddenly very glad he'd dressed up a little that evening.

It was quite impossible not to look. Dean didn't even have to turn his gaze to know that more than one set of eyes shifted to admire Sam's lengthy form. The man was all strong curves, giving off the air of confidence that would be appealing to the straightest man in town. Dean watched the way Sam's head tilted back slightly to shake golden hair back from his eyes, smirk playing across his lips, stance suggesting he fit in just fine here and couldn't be bothered to care what anyone might think of him. "What do I really want?" He repeated, draining his second beer and pushing to his feet and stepping back from the bar. "Fresh air," his eyes shifted to Sam, eyebrows lifting. "Walk me home?" Dean suggested, lip quirking up in a slight smirk of his own.

Sam rolled his bottom lip under his teeth for a few moments. Normally, leaving a place with this much emotion, this much turmoil would be the last thing he would want so early in the evening. "Okay, I'd like that." Pushing up off the bar Sam reached out for the jacket he had tossed over an empty bar stool. Before Dean could change his mind Sam gestured for the door and waited until Dean started moving to rest his hand on the small of the other man's back. The guy was radiating heat like a furnace and Sam made sure he guided them through the thickest part of the crowd so they'd be forced together. He liked the feel of Dean's body, firm and muscular, solid. His mind was definitely able to come up with some pleasing scenarios for how they could end the evening.

It was odd and a little unsettling to feel people's gaze on the both of them as they moved through the large room to the door. Dean hadn't even realized how the crowd had grown since he first entered and he wondered fleetingly how long he had been speaking with Sam. Something in him suggested that he should already know this, that the heat of Sam's hand low on his back shouldn't be so warm and _tingling_ , but Dean couldn't properly address either subject so he ignored them. When they stepped out into the cool night air he breathed in deeply, slightly relieved at being free of the crowded building. "I could feel them all watching," he pointed out, glancing over at Sam who was still far too close, or quite possibly not close enough. "I think they're jealous of me, leaving with you."

"Maybe they're jealous of me." Sam laughed softly. "What's your story, Dean?" Stepping back he leaned against the wall behind him, stalling, buying some more time for their _walk_.

"My story?" Dean lifted curious eyebrows and laughed, "what is it you want to know Sam?" Dean countered with a question, kicking at the sidewalk.

"I don't know," Sam let his lips curve up into a shy smile. "You seem different somehow, not like your average guy. Actually," Sam took a chance, reaching out for the hem of Dean's t-shirt and tugging the man a little closer, "I can honestly say you're different from any other man I've ever met." Now, _that_ was the truth.

Against his better judgment Dean stepped forward into Sam's warmth, slight smile mirroring Sam's in the oddest way. "I am different," he agreed with a nod, pursing his lips for a moment before continuing, "no one is the same after all. Maybe I've just got you fooled." He chuckled once more and let his fingers curl around Sam's wrist connected to his shirt. "I wouldn't say I'm anything special," Dean whispered quietly, gaze lifting to meet Sam's.

"I don't fool easily." Sam tilted his head to the side, hair falling forward. "So ... am I walking you home?" Dean's hand was warm on Sam's wrist; Sam clenched his fingers into a tight first on the man's shirt knowing that Dean would feel the strength in his arm. "And... for the record, I think you might be very special." There had to be a reason why Sam couldn't read Dean, why he was inexplicably drawn to the man. It went far beyond his chiselled features, the firm body; there was something in those eyes.

"Hmm," Dean nodded, humming an only barely-there noise before his hand dropped and he began to walk down the sidewalk. "Seeing as you're my own personal stalker, showing you my home probably isn't the wisest idea," Dean pointed out, turning slightly to smirk at Sam and take a few half steps backward. Dean fell into silence, smile wavering along with his steps as he stared at Sam. Another moment of hesitation to gain control of himself and Dean lifted his hand, "c'mon, you can keep telling me how good looking and special I am."

Still smiling, Sam pushed off the wall and caught up to the other man. At least, he'd finally affected Dean, even if it had taken a couple of beers and a crowded room Sam would still take it as a victory. "Friday night," he mused, "do you work tomorrow or are you sleeping in, taking the day off?" Brushing his hair back off his forehead he peered sideways at Dean as they walked.

"I work whenever I want, make my own hours, perks of the job," Dean shrugged, looking around the sidewalk as they headed down the street. "You're not staying the night," Dean pointed out, slight smirk on his face as he glanced over at Sam. "So don't even get thinking that way," he laughed, shaking his head.

Sam was really starting to like the guy. Huffing out an offended laugh through a broad grin Sam thrust his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. "I'm wounded that you've developed such a low opinion of me. Here I'm being all gentleman..ly... and shit." Turning to flash his grin, Sam's breath hitched slightly as he saw the smile on Dean's face. It was going to be... _difficult_... not to just follow his usual routine with this one. But, Sam had a feeling it would be worth it.

"Oh yeah, you're a real charmer," Dean snorted and shook his head, turning to guide Sam down the street across from the park. A soft sigh left his lips as he looked over at the empty park, illuminated in random spots were the moon broke through the trees. "I'm just up here," he informed Sam, small smile still on his face. "No spontaneous appearances in the middle of the night okay?" He teased, crooking an elbow to brush into Sam's side.

"That's it?" Sam was hoping for more time to work on Dean before they'd reached his home. "Well, Dean," Sam's smiled softened. "Thank you, for... well, appearing again. Fate is being kind to me. And, I won't show up uninvited." Sam bowed his head for a moment, pulling his hands out of his pockets and half reaching for Dean's hand. This hesitancy in him was... odd. A thousand other times in a similar situation Sam would just _take_ what he wanted. Rolling his bottom lip under his teeth he waited, hoping he'd made enough inroads to be invited in... or at least _back_.

Dean stared at him for a long beat of silence, watching the barely visible pulse along his neck, the way Sam's eyes never shifted to the side as if he could spend the rest of the night simply staring at him. It disturbed Dean slightly that he felt somewhere along those lines. Swallowing, he almost instinctively reached out and slid his fingers across Sam's, tugging him forward slightly. Dean's eyes shot up from their connected hands to Sam's gaze, hesitating on his lips from a moment. _What are you doing?_ Something internally screamed at him to turn and go inside but Dean stepped forward, close enough to feel the heat from Sam's body. "Did we ever determine if you believe in fate?" He asked quietly, gaze shifting along the lines of Sam's face as if searching for something.

Sam swallowed, licking his lips nervously. The man had surprised him again and it was a feeling he was starting to enjoy greatly. He'd forgotten how intoxicating it could be, _not_ to know what was going to happen, to have to ride it out like everyone else. The half step forward he took was almost a stumble as Sam was overly focused on the feeling of Dean's fingers sliding across his palm. Tilting his head slightly, brows drawing together over his smile Sam actually found himself pondering the question. Well, he pondered it as much as he was able to while trying not to stare at Dean's full lips and the smattering of freckles across his cheeks. Breaking the gaze momentarily he took a deep breath. "I think," he began, and then looked up, "I do... now." The green of the other mans' eyes was darker, his irises painted black with something Sam hoped meant he was making progress.

"Mm," Dean hummed softly with a faint nod. Funny how he'd never expected to find himself in this situation, standing almost chest to chest with this man. It certainly hadn't been the way he'd planned on the night ending when he'd left his home earlier that evening. "Well, it has been pretty good at connecting us thus far," he mused quietly, tongue slipping out to run over his lips slowly. "Of course, most people would just call that a coincidence," Dean felt a little like he was babbling now and his lip quirked up slightly with the raise of his eyebrow. "Are you going to kiss me Sam?" He found himself asking, stifling the surprise the question drew up in him.

Blinking a few times, lips moving slightly as he tried to choose the right words, Sam felt the blood slow in his veins. It had been a long time since simple human contact had made him feel quite so... moved. "I... didn't want to presume... you said.." Sam shrugged a shoulder; lips parted slightly, eyes locked with Dean's. "I would like to..." Sam was having trouble controlling his body, the heat radiating off the other man was so intense that holding back was almost painful. He wanted to _touch_.

There were quite a few reasons that resounded clear in Dean's mind as to why they _shouldn't_. He hardly knew the man after all; Sam was a mystery to him. But something else inside Dean suggested that _not_ kissing him would alter things forever. This was his moment. "I said a lot of things," Dean pointed out quietly, once more wetting his lips. "Doesn't necessarily mean that I meant them," Dean's gaze softened slightly as he watched unknown emotions flicker across Sam's features.

Before he could change his mind or talk himself out of something that simply _had_ to be heading down a rocky path, Sam moved forward. Ducking his head down slightly, head tilted to the side he slanted his mouth over Dean's and pressed forward into him. Tender, gentle, his lips dragged across Dean's willing mouth and a shudder of sensation ran down his body. Sam moaned softly as the heat of _want_ spiralled up inside him taking his breath away. And then, something he'd never experienced before. For the briefest moment he lost control of all he'd been taught, lost the ability to confine the power that simmered within him. At the most, it was a fraction of a second but it was enough to send a fire through his veins, heat pooling in his hands. It had been a lifetime since Sam had struggled to control his power, his _abilities_ , and it caught him off guard. The overwhelming sensation of the kiss, the potency of the strength within him flooded through Sam. He fell forward hard against Dean's body, fiery palms sliding over the other man's shirt to settle at the small of his back.

It was the most intense kiss Dean had ever experienced and his mind seemed to flare up into overtime. The heat and sparks and something that shouldn't pass between two people had him pushing forward, hands threading up into Sam's hair to pull their lips in, smearing them hard together. Everything felt suddenly too out of his control and Dean could sense something loosening in him, slipping away. Dropping his hands to Sam's shoulders Dean pushed him back, ceasing the sparks, steadying his feet on the ground. Dean's eyes fluttered open as he sucked in a sharp breath, "holy fuck." It was a whisper but Dean knew Sam had heard it.

Panting, Sam stumbled back a few steps eyes snapping open as hurt and rejection flickered through his body. Curling his fingers into his tingling palms Sam clenched his fists so hard his hands shook. "Wh..What did you... I asked..." He didn't lose control. Since Sam was a child he'd managed to contain himself, control was everything to him. Pausing only a moment Sam stepped back again, "I'm... sorry." And, oddly enough, he was.

"Sorry?" Dean's eyebrows lifted, surprise crossing his features. "For what? The fucking hottest kiss I've ever had?" He laughed, the noise laced with the shock still turning through him. Dean had never felt anything quite like that and it still felt like everything along his skin was prickling in hyper awareness. "You... was that not..." he shook his head, rubbing at the back of his neck as it occurred to him that the kiss might not have been as good for Sam.

Sam pushed the back of his fisted hand across his mouth, staring wide-eyed at Dean. "You pushed me away... I thought I..." He swallowed, nervous, unaccustomed to not having the upper hand and being the one with the knowledge. Brows furrowed Sam's eyes darted from Dean's eyes to his lips then back. "It was... " his lips twitched into the hint of a smile, "good... wasn't it." But, he stayed where he was - feeling the safety of a slight distance between them. He could hear the Demon's threats rattling around in his mind; _never lose control_ , _feeling is weak_. Shaking his head slowly Sam stepped back unconsciously and swayed slightly feeling as though he might slide right off the world below his feet.

Dean could sense Sam pulling away, could see the clear surprise on his face. He knew the feeling, everything in his heart was racing and Dean was fairly sure a kiss like that shouldn't shake every part of him. "It... shouldn't feel like that..." Dean murmured and chuckled once more. "Not that I'm complaining that it was a bad thing, cause... yeah... it felt a little..." Dean shrugged and slid back toward the front walk to his house. "Well, I guess I'm just gonna go..." he gestured toward the door, feeling as if Sam might strike at any moment or turn and run.

It was completely within his power based on physical strength alone to take what he wanted. Sam did something he had never done before. He let Dean go. Stepping back once more he raised his hand in a half wave eyes still locked with the other man's. "Dean?"

Dean couldn't name the swirl of emotions tangling and swirling in him and he almost simply turned and bolted into the house, afraid of what Sam might have to say. "Yeah?" He asked, reaching into his pocket to pull out a set of keys.

"Can I see you... again?" Sam shoved his hands back in his pockets, shoulder high, tense. The thought of never seeing Dean again was more than uncomfortable.

Reaching out, Dean slid the key into the lock, turning it before curling his free hand around the knob. He sighed softly for a moment before nodding and lifting his gaze to consider Sam. "Yeah Sam, you can see me again," his lips twitched in a slight smile before he dropped his gaze once more and pushed the door open, slipping safely inside the house.

Smiling, Sam realized that he had no way of contacting Dean. But then, fate had been working in his favour so far. Taking a few more steps backwards as he stared at Dean's door Sam finally turned and disappeared into the evening.


	2. Chapter 2

The chirp of a bird echoed near them and Dean's head tilted up in time with another man's, both watching as the creature swooped low along the grass and snatched something up in its beak. Dean watched as the bird once more resumed flight, throwing the captured worm up in the air and catching it with a deep swallow. "Do you think it's wise?" The man asked and a flicker of a touch slid along his arm, comforting and reassuring.

"No," Dean shook his head and chuckled, dropping his gaze from the bird as it faded off into the distance. "But then, when have I ever done the _wise_ thing?" His smile grew as the man agreed to the statement with nod and a laugh of his own.

"Well, don't get too in over your head," the mad advised and squeezed his arm. "You know... the others are talking and I've heard things Dean..." he sighed, shaking his head slowly.

Dean bristled, shying away from the line of conversation and stepping back, "tell them to mind their own business. The last thing I need is a lecture so just lay off." Dean rolled his eyes, head shaking to the side angrily as he struggled with the upsurge of emotions.

"You know we only have your best interest in mind," the man pressed on, inhaling deeply as if preparing himself for a lecture he'd been practicing for some time.

"Spare me," Dean scoffed and took yet another step back. "I can handle myself. Now go away before I make you," he rolled his eyes once more and turned his back on the man, taking a few quick steps away. He was still fuming so, when three more steps brought him smack into a person’s chest, he nearly growled in annoyance. Until wide hands curled around his arms and his eyes shot up to meet hazel. "Sam," he said through a surprised exhale, blinking a few times to clear away the haywire emotions.

Gazing down into those now familiar moss green eyes Sam smiled - fingers curling possessively around Dean's muscular arms. "If I were a betting man, I'd say that fate had taken a liking to you and I." His voice was only loud enough for Dean to hear, intimate, and warm. It was no thanks to fate he was once more standing flush against Dean's body. It was thanks to the thoughts around him, the whispers of images guiding him to Dean's location. He'd watched Dean speaking to an older man for a while. Watched determination flare in those green eyes. It was strange. Another human Sam couldn't read. Only the vaguest sense of his presence. He would ask Azazel about this gap in his power the next time they met. At some point. If the demon felt inclined to bless Sam with a visit any time soon.

Dean turned slightly to look back over his shoulder before once more fixing his gaze on Sam. "Sure seems to be that way. Though it's been a few days, I was beginning to wonder," he smiled slightly, swallowing around the heat radiating off Sam's hand and into his muscle. It seemed the longer he held on the more intense the heat felt. "What are you doing right now? Meandering through the park aimlessly?" Dean teased, eyes dropping as his hand extended to pick at a loose string low on Sam's shirt.

Letting his thumbs move gently across Dean's sleeve Sam sighed. "Oh you know," he shrugged a shoulder, "meandering aimlessly through life really." Reluctantly, he slid his arms down Dean's and let his hands fall back to his sides. "I... about the other night..." Sam had thought of nothing else. The only explanation he'd been able to come up with was that it was so unusual, so unheard of for him to be with someone he couldn't sense that it had caused the slip in his control.

"Hey," Dean cut him off, instinctively reaching up and laying two fingers across Sam's lips. "I meant it when I said it was the hottest fucking kiss I've ever had. Clearly you felt something along those lines since we both seemed to be pretty damn shocked by the whole thing," he chuckled and shook his head, thumb shifting to smooth along Sam's bottom lip. For a few minutes he lost himself in staring at Sam's pink, slightly moist lips, remembering the way he had felt almost tangible sparks along his lips as their mouths slid together. Dean swayed forward slightly as if drawn to the action before he cleared his throat, dropped his hand and stepped back slightly. "Uh, sorry. I guess I may have been thinking about that kiss for... awhile," he shrugged and lifted a hand to rub along the back of his neck.

Sam hummed his agreement and shifted his weight to his back foot. "You want to ..." he shrugged and looked around trying to figure out exactly where they were, "get a meal? Coffee? Walk?" He pressed his lips together and smiled, hoping he pulled off shy. "I'd _really_ like to spend some time with you... a lot." Still curious - he could learn a lot about himself if he managed to understand why this man was able to keep all his thoughts to himself.

"I could go for a lunch," Dean nodded slowly, looking behind him once more before gesturing with a shrug of his shoulder down the street. "I know this great Mom and Pop place down the street, you'll like it," a moment later he laughed and shook his head. "Not that I have any idea what sort of food you like but I like it so it works for me," Dean grinned at Sam and tucked his hands into his pockets as he lead them down the sidewalk.

Shrugging, Sam moved immediately to Dean's side. "I thought about you. When you said I could see you again...you didn't even give me your phone number. Were you hoping that would be the end of it or just ... curious as to how resourceful I am?" Sam was certainly curious about Dean.

Dean shrugged and glanced over at Sam, "no... I suppose I just wanted to see if you were right." Dean chuckled softly and explained more a moment later, "you know, about the whole fate being real thing. And, looks like it is. This town's not _that_ small after all."

"No, it's not." Sam walked silently for a few moments then reached out suddenly and grabbed Dean's arm. "Listen," he said, "I've never... that kiss, I've never felt anything like that before. I mean..." his fingers curled tight around Dean's forearm. "I really mean that..." _he really did_ , "it's not a line or something... like some stupid pick up thing I say..." Sucking on his bottom lip for a few moments Sam finally looked up to meet Dean's startled gaze. "Okay, so I'm not going to do it again right now, not here, but I _will_. So - if you're going to say no... if I do that again. I want to know now. I _need_ to know now... so I can just... go." As crazy as it made him sound, it was all quite truthful. That alone was enough to make Sam question his own sanity. It wasn't an ultimatum but... this was different. _Dean_ was different.

"Basically you're saying you want to know if I'm going to allow you to kiss me once more?" Dean looked at him, swallowing around the heat soaking into his arm once more. "And... this is just your way or warning me?" He chuckled softly and leaned forward, brushing his lips just along the very edge of Sam's. Sparks seemed to dance along his lips which was just as unsettling as before since the contact was so very brief. Dean stepped back, eying Sam before turning back to the road. "Just imagine what the sex will be like," Dean said, just loud enough for Sam to hear as he continued down the street.

"Oh, I already have," Sam murmured too low for anyone to hear. Taking a deep breath he jogged up to Dean's side and fell into step with him again. They chatted as they moved down the street, weaving through the lunch time crowd. The restaurant was busy but after only waiting a few minutes they were seated at a table by the front window. Sam let Dean order both their meals; he wasn't interested in the food, after all. Sam had been studying Dean while they walked, as they waited, and now - he watched Dean's movements. There was a strange grace to the way the man moved, Sam tilted his head. Dean was a trained fighter of some kind, perhaps, martial arts. His nails were trimmed, not bitten and his hair cut recently. All these little pieces of information Sam filed away.

"So, Dean," Sam began as soon as the waiter left with their orders. "Tell me more about yourself. You're not originally from here, wrong accent. Where do you come from?" Sam smiled and leaned his elbows on the table.

Dean's fingers extended to drum along the table top, smiling softly as if just thinking about his life before moving here stirred up a whole range of emotions in him. "Honestly? I kind of come from all over. I was born in Kansas but I didn't live there long enough to ever call it my home. I've been a lot of places," Dean nodded, wetting his lips and adding no more on the subject. "Where do you come from originally? Or where do you call home now?" Dean asked, curiosity sparking across his eyes.

It was a question Sam always dreaded. He had never been given any knowledge about his life _before_ his work with Azazel. "Oregon," he gave his standard lie. Dropping his eyes to the table between them he lowered his voice. "I had an _unfortunate_ ," he tilted his head to the side, "childhood." Sam rubbed unconsciously at the pale scars on the tender skin of his forearm; his blood ran cold as he thought of Azazel, his punishments, the decrees that Sam had grown up with. "I'm not... close... with anyone." He didn't know why he was saying anything at all. Dean wasn't forcing him. _Strange_.

Dean worked hard to hide any sympathy he might have felt for the man, getting the feeling that it wasn't what Sam wanted. "By your own choice? Or because getting close would be..." Dean gestured into thin air with a sweep of his hand, studying Sam with a slightly tilted head. Sam was like one big puzzle to him and Dean wasn't necessarily sure he was prepared to put all the pieces together and find out the answer.

"So many reasons," Sam murmured. He rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth, lost in thought for a few moments. "You have family?" Sam dropped his hand back to the table, eyes lifting once more to Dean's face. _Family_ ; Sam's family was a string of unfamiliar faces and faint voice drifting to him through thick walls. There were no warm memories, no fond smile brought to his face when he thought back over his youth.

The whole situation felt a little quid pro quo to Dean but he supposed it was only fair, even if Sam hadn't given him much in the way of a real answer. "No," he shook his head briefly and turned his gaze out the window. "Well, you couldn't technically call them family, though there's a possibility I should, considering..." Dean looked up, blinking a few times and shaking his head. "My real family passed away when I was younger. And you?" Dean gestured once more, smiling slightly at the almost interview feel this conversation had.

Head shaking slowly from side to side Sam's lips curled into a slight smile. "No ..." he murmured, "no family." Turning to look out the window for a few moments Sam's voice was thick with emotion when he spoke. "I was ... _given away_." His top lip twitched into an unpleasant curl. He hated thinking about all the stories he'd been told as he grew up but the common theme seemed to be that his family ... his parents wanted nothing to do with him. Sam was born tainted, different, and obviously it was too much for _them_. Lowering his lashes to his cheeks slowly, Sam licked his lips and turned back to Dean as he opened his eyes. "Not every family is picture perfect I suppose."

Dean's fingers curled together slightly, clenching, pulling the muscles as he pursed his lips. "Given away..." he repeated slowly, realizing it sounded less like a question then it should. Dean reached out, staring in mild surprise at his slightly shaking hand. He jerked it to the side before Sam could notice, knocking over the glass of Coke the waiter had set down just moments before. It splashed back onto him, rolling off the table and instantly soaking into his jeans and shirt. "Shit," Dean slid of the booth quickly, shaking off the liquid and chuckling at himself. "Smooth Dean. I'll be right back," he smiled at Sam before spinning and heading across the restaurant to the bathroom.

Sam's eyes followed Dean's back as he strode across the restaurant. Something had unsettled the other man. Sam looked around the room; he sensed nothing but the usual drivel. Insecurities, worry, sexual frustration, laundry lists of human insecurity and stress. Sighing he leaned back in the booth and glared out at the crowd still moving past on the street. He flipped his fingers toward the intersection across the street and watched the light change instantly to red. The squealing of tires was loud enough for him to hear through the windows but the following crash wasn't nearly as spectacular as he was hoping. Leaning his forehead against the glass, Sam watched people leaping out of their cars and screaming at each other. Lifting his hand he pressed is against the window, flattening his palm against the cool glass.

"Wow," Dean cleared his throat, eyes fixed on the window before dropping down to Sam. "That's quite a crash." He stared at Sam for a long moment before sliding back into the booth, "sorry about that, soda all over my lap, not my favorite thing." Dean's lips lifted in a slight smile and he glanced out the window at the crash once more before looking back across the restaurant. "No food yet huh? That's irritating. You good?" Dean watched him with curved eyebrows, threading his fingers together on the table's surface.

"I can wait." Sam turned his head slowly and slid back down the bench away from the window. "Dean ... " he tried once more, pushing gently with his mind. "Come and stay with me tonight." He reached out across the table and slid his fingers over Dean's, shivering almost instantly as the sparking sensation ran up his arms. Letting his head fall to the side slightly he blinked at Dean from under his long hair. "Please..." His fingers tightened on Dean's, "it's been a long time since I spent some time... spent time... with someone I ...." Looking down at the fingers he saw Dean tense, could feel him pulling back. "There's no one I feel comfortable with ... it's different being with you." More truth. It was crazy to be like this. Sam had spent his entire life alone, not needing anyone or anything. He didn't even need to know _how_ to properly interact with people, after all, he could make people do whatever he wanted. He just felt sort of frantic about getting to know Dean; it was so unsettling to sit in front of someone who was a complete blank to him.

The idea sounded surprisingly appealing to Dean even as something rustled inside him, shifted, grew, and whispered a warning that Dean probably should have acknowledged. But he wasn't exactly the best at following the _should_ 's about life. "Alright," he nodded slowly, swallowing down the tension and rolling his shoulders. Dean stared at the table's surface for a moment before dragging his gaze over Sam's broad chest, sweeping along the curves of bone, finally settling on his eyes. It was odd how he could feel such a strong connection to a person who was virtually a mystery. "You... have a place? An apartment or motel room?" Dean asked quietly, gaining control of the upset inside him.

Tongue darting out to wet his top lip, Sam stared into the other man's dark green eyes. He wasn't sure how long passed in silence before he was nodding. "I ... have a ... house." He had always secured a house as soon as he arrived at any location. It made sense. And, Sam had no trouble getting what he wanted _when_ he wanted it. Usually. "You will?" He looked down at the table, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You will." Taking a deep breath he felt himself relax a little, like he was sinking more firmly onto the earth. Closing his eyes Sam pulled his hand back, fingers trailing off Dean's hand. "Okay," he sighed as he opened his eyes. The waiter appeared at the edge of their table and Sam started, surprised not only by the waiter's appearance but also by the fact that he didn't even sense him there.

"Thanks," Dean smiled up at the waiter and nodded as the food slid in front of him. Once he had gone Dean turned back to Sam, still smiling softly. "I'm glad I still intrigue you," he pointed out, curling his fingers around his sandwich and bringing it up. "You're... pretty intriguing too. One great big mystery," Dean chuckled and opened his mouth to take a bite. The front door of the restaurant opened and Dean turned toward it, eyes narrowing at the man that entered. They locked eyes for a long moment before Dean slowly turned back around, frowning at the food in his grip.

"Food okay?" Sam's eyes moved to the man who'd walked into the restaurant. The hair on the back of Sam's neck stood up. _Another one... nothing._ Sam's eyes widened, his curiosity rearing again. "Someone you know?" He nodded his chin toward the man who was disappearing further into the restaurant. Looking toward the back of the restaurant Sam sought out the man with his mind, it was like reaching out into a dark room. He could sense something was there but couldn't touch it. "Anything I can do?" Sam dragged his eyes back to Dean's.

Dean took a large bite of his food and chewed slowly, shaking his head. His mind was reeling and he took the chance to calm it slightly before swallowing and giving Sam a smile, "we're... old acquaintances but it's okay. He'll leave us alone." Dean nodded as if he were sure of that fact before taking another bite. It was hard to find peace in this place and suddenly going to Sam's sounded like a very good idea. "How's your meal? Mine's great," he pressed the change in topic, biting into his sandwich once more.

Throwing one arm along the back of the booth Sam picked up his sandwich with his free hand and took a bite. "It's good," he muttered around a mouthful of bread. After he swallowed he looked back up at Dean, "someone you... " Sam waved away the rest of the question with his sandwich. A pinch of jealously stung his chest and he shifted uncomfortably stretching his legs forward again on either side of Dean's.

"We... were friends?" Dean shrugged and shook his head, "that would be using the _friend_ term lightly. He's more... well... he's just an acquaintance like I said. I guess you could say we have the same boss," Dean laughed humorlessly and set his sandwich down, picking at fries instead. "One of those people you just have to put up with you know?" Dean looked up at him and sighed, shifting his legs and blinking when they came into contact with Sam's and energy fizzled along them. Against his control Dean's eyes shot toward the back of the restaurant the man had disappeared in but he kept his legs in place, enjoying the new buzz of sensation that seemingly radiated from Sam.

It was getting harder for Sam to swallow. Dropping his sandwich to his place he pushed it away. "Let's go now." There was no way Sam could stand much more of the _touching_ without doing something about it. His skin felt like it was crawling off his body. Sam tugged hard at the neck of his t-shirt, finding the air too close quite suddenly. "I... " He reached down and tugged his wallet out of his back pocket pulling out more than enough money to cover the bill and throwing it on the table. "If you're still hungry there's more food at ... my house."

There was a flash in Sam's eyes that Dean recognized and he swallowed thickly, pinching a handful of fries and shoving them into his mouth. He smiled at the man before sliding out of the booth and standing up, surprised to find the heat that had built in him caused his jeans to tighten slightly. He hadn't even noticed, too caught up in the touches. Coughing quietly he reached out for his drink and drained half of it. "Are we walking or um, do you have a car?" He asked in a low whisper, quiet enough for just them to hear.

Sam's eyes were locked with Dean's as his fingers curled around the other man's wrist. "Car... uh... " Sam shook his head and tugged Dean toward the door, "truck. I'm parked a few blocks from here." Throwing a glance back over his shoulder Sam checked for the man Dean had spoken about then pulled the door open. The fresh air outside washed over his face and Sam took a few deep breaths, fingers throbbing against Dean's wrist. It was as though he could feel ever pulse of blood in Dean's veins.

"Weird," Dean muttered quietly as he trailed after Sam, eyes dropping to the place the man's flesh touched his. Looking back up he smiled at Sam and shook his head, "I don't think touches are supposed to feel so..." he shrugged, unable to even find a proper name for it. "Well, not usually casual touches at least. Maybe this is beyond fate," he pointed out, shaking his head once more to clear the thought.

"Beyond ... fate..." Sam pulled his fingers off Dean's wrist and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He would _prove_ to himself that he could control this ... whatever-it-was. Forcing a laugh and tearing his eyes away from Dean Sam strode forward. "This way ... maybe, it's just chemistry you know? When was the last time you ..." he glanced at Dean's face, "were with someone?" Sam had already blurted out enough about his own circumstances. Focusing his mind carefully he made sure there would be no one at the house when they arrived. There was no reason for anyone else to see this strange ... weakness ... he had suddenly discovered in himself.

Dean lifted his arm, staring at the place Sam had briefly touched and wondering why it seemed so cold now that he wasn't touching him any longer. "Too long," Dean said quietly, chuckling and shaking his head. "Do I even want to know how long it's been for you?" He glanced over at Sam, studying him.

"I don't ..." Sam chose his words carefully, "connect with people often." Sam had learned to limit his sexual encounters to as little time as possible. It was never easy being that connected, that intimate, the thoughts were too much and he was flooded with the emotions of his partner. Any encounter that went beyond Sam getting off he ended quickly. The other thing that Sam rarely did, was take people back to _his_ home. So many times Azazel had warned him about making connections with people, investing too much trust in _weak_ humans. Sam headed for his truck, long strides moving him quickly forward. He noted that Dean had no trouble keeping up. A few inches shorter than Sam - Dean looked strong; he obviously took care of his body. Taking a deep breath Sam looked up the at sky, fingers twitching at his side. Sending his strength flaring out up into the sky he smiled, "Looks like it might storm."

Dean didn't look up to the sky, instead stepped closer to Sam and reached out to lay the tips of his fingers against the side of Sam's neck. They seemed to crack and fizzle against his skin and Dean swallowed thickly, gazing up at Sam with earnest eyes. "Sam," he breathed, surprised by the level of compassion in his voice. "You know, if you don't want... no matter what I'm okay with just spending time with you okay? I understand." Dean smiled and dropped his fingers, sliding back slightly. "Sorry that must have sounded very... gay or something," Dean snorted, rubbing uncomfortably at his neck.

Sam's brows drew together as he lowered his head, eyes dropping from the stormy clouds to Dean's face. There it was again, that strange feeling of being cut adrift because he was unable to read Dean's thought. Even though it was almost a welcome relief to not be bombarded by sensation it knocked Sam off-kilter. He was unaccustomed to doubting himself, wondering, feeling even the slightest bit less than certain. Turning his head slightly into the lingering sensation of Dean's touch Sam searched Dean's face. "I want to s..spend time with you." Sam's fingers were shaking as he reached out to slide them along the soft material of Dean's shirt curling them around his side. "Surprisingly enough..." he cleared his throat, "I don't care what we do. It's just that, I want you to myself...for myself..." He shook his head, fingers curling harder into the heat of Dean's back. "Whatever, I want ..." He was seriously starting to question his own sanity. Every time he was around this man - even worse when he was touching him - he just felt like he was no longer on solid ground. Sighing he let a half-smile move across his face quickly. "Can't explain it. Do you think I'm... crazy or something?"

Chuckling softly Dean shook his head, looking up at the sky for a moment before meeting Sam's eyes once more. "No. I don't think you're crazy. I think you're a mystery," he reached across his chest to rub at his upper arm. "Do you ever feel like you're just... trapped in this stupid pattern of a life, that you just keep walking down the same road over and over?" Dean gazed down at the ground for awhile before slowly lifting his eyes to Sam and forcing a laugh, "wow, don't know where that came from. I guess you just... change things in me or something. Make me think differently. We should go now before it rains," he huffed, turning to head around the truck.

Blowing out a tension filled breath Sam yanked his door open and climbed in. Starting up the ignition he turned back to Dean again. "You don't like then rain?" His fingers moved restlessly on the steering wheel. For some reason, he wanted to please Dean.

"I don't mind it but I'd rather not be stuck out in it," Dean smiled as he pulled the seat belt across his lap. "Personally, I think some of the best moments to be had are stuck indoors in a thunderstorm, if the company's right," Dean settled back in the seat, slightly turned to consider Sam.

"Then ... I'm sure it will be a stormy night." Sam's fingers waved briefly then curled tighter around the steering wheel as the first rumble of thunder shuddered across the sky. "Guess ... someone wants you to be happy." Sam smiled and backed out of the parking spot to merge out onto the road. Relaxing back against the seat a little he reached up and pushed the hair back off his forehead. "I have a good feeling about you and I, Dean."

"Do you?" Dean asked curiously and vaguely registered the spark of something bright flare up in him. Hope. Dean swallowed around the feeling and tilted his head to the side, considering Sam as the first drops of rain fell along the windshield. He wasn't sure if he could give a name to the feeling he had about Sam and himself. "Is that a good feeling in general or...?" He smiled softly, curling a hand along the edge of the seat.

"Just think things are gonna go well." Sam pressed more weight down on the accelerator concentrating on the road ahead of them, _encouraging_ people to move out of their way. Smiling, he glanced at Dean out of the corner of his eye. "It's on the outskirts of town. Don't like people...around." He also didn't like people hearing anything that might be going on at his house.

Nodding slowly Dean turned his eyes to the road, watching with slightly pursed lips. Strange how everything was shifting and changing since the very moment he met Sam. "So you must be planning to stay in town for awhile, if you have a house," Dean commented casually, drumming his fingers along the dash.

"Always get a house wherever I am. I like my privacy." Sam was silent for a few minutes speeding down the freeway out of town. "You worried I'm gonna disappear on ya?" He grinned, feeling heat rising in his body the closer they got to his house.

"I could see it as a possibility," Dean nodded and rolled his shoulders. He settled back into the seat, watching as cars seemed to move out of their way as they went along. "You're not right? Just gonna up and disappear?" The thought alone was unsettling and Dean glanced over at Sam, watching him for any sign as to what he may be thinking about the entire situation.

"My ... work here isn't finished yet. I'll be around for a while." Sam didn't want to talk about leaving; it would happen entirely too soon. "This road," he gestured ahead of them to the right. Pulling off onto an older side road Sam drove into a more wooded area then turned once more onto a dirt road. After a few minutes his house was just visible through the trees. "S'not much ... but it's comfortable."

"I like it, nothing wrong with having your own space," Dean smiled and reached out for Sam's hand, grazing his fingers along the top. "Are you nervous?" He asked quietly, wetting his lips as the touch sparked up the tips of his fingers and swirled along his arm.

"Nervous," Sam echoed. "Yeah, I suppose." Remarkably, he was nervous. After all, he didn't know what Dean was thinking or feeling - he was relying solely on the way the man's face looked, the subtle movements of his body. Sam threw the truck into park and got out without taking the keys out of the ignition. "C'mon in," he said right before closing the door.

Dean took a moment to watch Sam move before pushing the door open and sliding out. He trailed after the taller man, watching the way his muscles flexed and pulled as he moved. Sam's body was really quite remarkable and the fact that he knew that now, while the man was fully clothed, had to be saying something. "I am too," he pointed out, stopping beside Sam at the front door and looking up at him. "Nervous."

Taking a step back Sam leaned in to Dean, pressing his chest up against the other man's. He ducked his head down and ran his cheek across Dean's, slowly, eyes drifting closed as he breathed in the scent of Dean's hair. "Don't... be...." he whispered, lips barely dusting across the skin of Dean's ear.

Lifting a hand Dean curled his fingers into Sam's shirt, body moving forward into the taller man's almost on instinct. "You..." he sighed quietly and shook his head slightly, tilting into Sam's lips. "There's just something about you..." Dean could feel it, _knew_ , but his mind already felt too close to reeling and each inhale filled his senses with Sam's smell. "Is this... when you're gonna kiss me again?" He asked softly, pressing forward further into Sam's heat.

"Kiss you...." Sam murmured as his eyes closed. It was remarkable being so close to someone and not being able to sense their thoughts. It was almost as though Sam's other senses took over; the scent of Dean wafting forward, the course rasp of stubble between their cheeks, the sweet heat of Dean's breath on Sam's neck. Being that close to Dean, the heat of his body was engaging all of Sam's mind and body. Turning his head slightly, he brushed his mouth across the other man's. Something slammed into him, stealing the strength from his legs and he fell forward, hands slamming against the door behind Dean. His lips parted, an invitation to Dean to deepen the kiss.

Those sparks once more shot across his lips and Dean moaned, blowing a sharp breath through his nose as his body curved up into Sam's. Tilting his head to the side Dean opened his mouth wide and deepened the kiss with a slow, languid slide of lips. Electricity seemed to spark along his lips as Dean slid his tongue forward, slowly gliding along Sam's. He wasn't sure if the sparks were imaginary or not but Dean had this feeling that if he could be someone watching the kiss he would have _seen_ the little bolts traveling back and forth as their tongues collided. Dean moaned low in his throat and pressed flush against Sam, lifting his arms to wrap around Sam's neck.

Sliding his hand down the wooden door, Sam finally managed to get a grip on the door handle. Turning the knob he pushed the door open and walked Dean backwards without ever breaking the kiss. He didn't want to pull away, it was like a drug - the sparking, the buzzing through his veins - if he could _just_ get close enough. Kicking the door shut behind them Sam's hands finally made it to Dean's body. The heat radiating through Dean's t-shirt soaked into Sam's palms as his hands moved over solid muscle under cotton.

Nothing had ever felt like this, the way Sam's body burned under his palms through his clothing and Dean clawed along Sam's chest, feeling buttons sliding beneath his fingers. Sam's tongue slid forward into his mouth and Dean sucked hard on it, heart quickening as he breathed rapidly through his nose. One hand pressed hard into Sam's chest, rubbing along the muscles while the other slid up into Sam's hair, spreading wide to card through the hair before curling tightly and pressing Sam as hard as possible into him. Dean's knees dipped as the kiss took on a whole new level of intensity.

Wave after wave of sensation slammed into Sam's body and mind. Stumbling slightly he stepped back only enough to slide his fingers under the hem of Dean's t-shirt and yank it roughly up over his head. As he stepped back their lips parted and Sam stood there, panting softly, and then reached out a shaking hand to trail along Dean's collar bone then down the center of his chest. His eyes fluttered closed, a slight smile on his face as his fingers learned the way across Dean's body. The man's body was all lines, and hard muscle, smooth flesh. Sam felt like he was seeing with his fingertips; the heat that sparked along his flesh and drew his focus - everything felt like it had narrowed down to just the two of them.

Dean had no idea how long he and Sam kissed, just that at some point Sam's shirt opened beneath his hands and he spread his fingers wide over his chest. It was honestly a little unnerving, the way everything else just shut down, even that part of Dean that he often left untapped seemed to flare up. Something surged within him and Dean shoved roughly into Sam's body, sending them stumbling across the entry way hard until Sam back connected with the wall. Dean tasted blood mixed with the heady taste of Sam and the dizzying sensation clenched low in the pit of his stomach, filled his cock until it pressed earnestly against the front of his jeans. Growling into the kiss, Dean's hips rolled forward into Sam's, desperate for friction and _more_ because nothing felt like it could be _enough_.

Sam gasped out a surprised moan as his body slammed back into the wall; Dean was strong, strong enough to throw him around and instead of making Sam apprehensive he was suddenly so turned on he could barely function. His hands were frantic, gripping at Dean's flesh, smoothing over curves of muscle, blunt nails scratching red lines down the other man's back. "Dean... " Sam growled out the name, tongue thrusting forward into wet heat. Lowering his hands to Dean's waist Sam hooked his fingers over the waistband of his jeans and tugged him sideways. _Bedroom_ was all Sam could manage to think coherently. The wall fell away from behind him and he stumbled forward into Dean hissing with pleasure as their hips collided hard.

Every stumbled step backward that Dean took was automatic, body being guided by the press of Sam against him. Something collided hard into his shoulder, the door frame, but Dean only moaned and rolled harder forward. Maybe they'd always been stumbling toward this, another part of that _fate_ that seemingly guided them together. Dean tore his lips from the kiss with a gasp and dropped his head down to Sam's neck, sucking into his skin with an open mouth. Sam's skin tasted like honey fire along his tongue and Dean bit down hard, pulling blood to the surface, hands fumbling along Sam's waistline.

Sam's head fell back, banging hard against the door frame. Dean's lips, the pain mixed with pleasure made Sam's heart beat out of control in his chest. All he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears and the sound of Dean's breath. Letting his arms fall to his sides Sam licked his lips and thrust his hips forward giving Dean room to un-do the button on his jeans; he wanted them off. "I.. need..." he moaned, licking the blood from his lip. His mind wandered, down to his neck and the way Dean's full lips were sucking on his flesh each pulse making his cock ache and swell.

As Sam's button freed from the fabric Dean turned them, backing Sam to the bed until the back of his calves bumped into the mattress. In one swift movement Dean dipped, sliding his open mouth along Sam's chest as his fingers tugged down black denim and cotton. With the material below Sam's knees, the man's legs effectively captured, Dean pushed back up and shoved Sam down onto the bed. He wasted no time in kneeling, suddenly more intent on this one task than anything else. Sam's shoes and socks slipped easily off and Dean tugged the jeans and boxers swiftly after, curling his fingers into the man's thighs and pushing them roughly apart, tugging him down until his ass rested just along the edge of the mattress. Dean bent in to suck rough kisses up the inside of Sam's thighs, enjoying the creamy flesh exploding endless sparks across his tongue.

Sam's body lurched forward, one hand slamming down onto the bed to support him the other sliding into Dean's hair to grip it tightly. _Nothing_. "Can't... " Sam mumbled, "can't read you." It was barely a whisper but _God_ he wanted more. Sam couldn't remember a time when he'd felt so much and yet, he had no idea how Dean felt. Sam's fingers trailed down over Dean's temple, across the freckles scattered across his cheek and he groaned softly as Dean's mouth moved dangerously close to his balls. His hips were in constant motion and Sam couldn't stop from thrusting up towards Dean's mouth. Those lips were killing him, each pass of Dean's tongue, each grind of flesh under teeth shot through Sam's body and straight to his cock. Long fingers curled into the firm muscle of Dean's shoulder and Sam's chest arched forward.

Glancing up at the man, Dean's lips stilled for a moment before he shoved Sam's legs even further apart and leaned in to suck in the crevice of skin between Sam's balls and leg. Sam's cock twitched and bobbed beside him, brushing along his cheek slowly. Dean's lips quirked into a slight smirk before he turned toward the persistent flesh, tongue flicking out to sweep along the underside of swollen skin. If anything the sparks intensified and Dean moaned, surprised that one little taste could be so _good_. It felt like the world around them was literally falling apart piece by piece until only they remained, Sam's flesh beneath his palm, beneath his tongue, the explosion of pre-come along his taste buds. Another moan and Dean was opening his mouth wide, sucking as much of Sam's length into the heat of his mouth as possible, relaxing his jaw to pull him in further and hum.

The shock of sensation was something Sam hadn't counted on. He couldn't predict what Dean would do, where he would touch Sam next - his emotions were haywire. Sam felt his hands heating, warming, and buzzing with the power from deep inside him. "D..Dean," he murmured and then the heat of Dean's mouth surrounded his cock and Sam's arm gave out. Falling back onto the bed he cried out, fingers curling into his palms as he tried to subdue the energy building within him. Dean's touch - each burst of sensation sent lust clawing its way through Sam's body. Writhing, arching up, Sam's hands slammed down hard into the mattress. He was vaguely aware of thunder crashing outside as the storm whipped into a frenzy. Rocking his hips up he thrust hard into Dean's mouth, feeling the other man pull back slightly. Moaning, Sam couldn't fight the twist that spun through his body; he couldn't tell if he wanted more contact, less contact, _fuck_ \- he just wanted everything.

Freeing Sam's swollen flesh from his lips, Dean moaned slightly, dropping lower to suck Sam's balls into mouth and roll the skin slowly against his tongue. Leaning back once more he shoved Sam's legs up, spreading flesh before his eyes. Dean drank the sight in, slowly wetting his lips as his eyes moved up to Sam. Trusting the man to tell him if it was too much, Dean dipped forward once more to run the flat of his tongue up the length of Sam's perineum, moaning at the salty musk mixed with something that twanged along his taste buds. It was all foreign territory to Dean but he _wanted_ to taste every inch of the man suddenly more than he wanted anything. "Touch yourself," Dean instructed, voice deep and gravely, tongue flicking out to run along the fleshy pink entrance. The way Sam moaned and writhed against him was only heightening his desire and Dean was fairly certain he'd never been so turned on his life.

" _Fuck..._ " Sam spat out. Dean's voice was like a wave of fire; rough and burning it wrapped itself around Sam's spine. Unclenching his hand Sam slid it down his body, groaning with desire when his fingers curled around his swollen shaft. Letting his legs fall open Sam rolled his hips up to slide his cock past his palm. His skin was alive, crawling, waves of goose bumps pebbled across Sam's chest as his shoulders curled forward. Heart racing he reached down with his free hand, soft strands of Dean's hair falling through his fingers. Something deep within Sam railed at the way he was just giving himself up, handing over control to Dean but _fuck_ it was worth it. Each barely-there touch of Dean's tongue sent Sam's hips snapping up off the bed and his cock thrusting through his own grip.

Sucking in a sharp breath Dean dived forward with more force, thoroughly covering every inch along Sam's lower half, tongue sliding along the entrance with enough pressure to spread the muscle slightly. It was so _filthy_ and erotic Dean's vision blurred, flared, and his hips thrust forward against the mattress. Sam's body was almost vibrating against his tongue and Dean vaguely registered the crash of thunder outside as his tongue shoved roughly against the puckered entrance, barely breaking through. Sliding his tongue slowly back up he once more sucked Sam's balls into his mouth before reaching up to brush Sam's hand away from his cock once more. "Want to fill you come in my mouth," he murmured thickly, dragging the flat of tongue up the underside of red swollen flesh, swirling along the tip before sucking him back in. Dean palmed Sam's balls with his free hand while the other curled around the base of Sam's cock and stroked steadily up to his lips.

"You... you're trying to k..kill me." Sam thrashed about on the bed fighting the urge to fuck into Dean's mouth, he _wanted_ \- the only thing that flooded through him that made any sense at all was ... _want._ The instant Dean's mouth sank back down over his cock Sam could feel his orgasm ignite within him. Dean's mouth was perfect, smooth wet silk and his tongue was everywhere at once.

A low sound wrenched its way out of Sam's throat; his body lunged to the side, hand slamming across Dean's chest and gripping his shoulder. Shoving the other man back he moaned when Dean's lips left his cock and launched himself off the bed colliding with Dean with enough force to send him crashing onto the ground. Sam's was trembling from head to toe a low growl rising from his chest as he rolled Dean onto his back and started fumbling with the man's jeans. "Fuck," he hissed as he finally managed to get the button lose and yank the zipper down roughly. He clawed at the denim falling forward once and landing hard on his hip. Groaning again he climbed back up onto his hands and knees dragging the other man's pants down. Sam swore again when he had to pull Dean's boots off to get the jeans completely off.

All the air from Dean's lungs was emptied in a giant whoosh and his eyes widened before slamming shut. " _Jesus Christ_..." he gasped, body curling up to help Sam pull his clothing off. He'd never seen anyone move that fast and Dean felt a slight sting of pain along his spine but it was gone just as quick. The cool air of the room made his cock twitch, relief rushing through him as it was finally freed after what felt like so long being confined in his jeans. Sam's eyes almost looked black, thick with lust, and Dean stared up at him, panting, the taste of the man still lingering on his tongue. Dean's hand drifted down to curl around his cock, stroking several slow times to alleviate the pressure. "So, you got me here, whatcha gonna do with me?" Dean asked in a deep growl, hips arching up as his heels dug into the carpet.

Sam's eyes moved from Dean's down the man's body and settled on the fingers moving on his cock. Teeth breaking through the skin of his bottom lip, Sam lunged down again grabbing Dean's shoulders and twisting his body, slamming him face down on the carpeted floor. Falling forward to cover the man's body with his Sam moaned against the back of Dean's ear, tongue flicking out to drag down the cartilage. "Gonna do..." Sam bit down hard on Dean's neck, rolling the flesh between his teeth, "whatever I want."

Shifting to the side Sam pushed up off the floor and stumbled over to the nightstand and pulled the drawer right out of it, dropping everything in a crash on the floor. Throwing things to the side Sam finally snatched a bottle of lube off the floor. He barked out a laugh as he stumbled back to Dean; normally he wouldn't even bother with something like lube but somewhere in his mind he had a most unfamiliar sensation. He didn't want to hurt Dean. Well, he didn't want to hurt him in a way that he wouldn't enjoy. The smile on Sam's face darkened. Sam dropped down on his knees hard and started to crawl toward Dean.

A smirk danced across Dean's lips as he considered Sam, watched him move toward him. There was a light in his eyes, something dark and predatory, and the heat in Dean's gut doubled. Swallowing thickly he shifted on the carpet, moving to meet Sam's crawl. "And what is it you want?" He asked, a little delayed, brain sluggish around the pleasure. The lube was a dead giveaway but Dean wanted to hear him say it, wanted to feel the spark of heat that would come at the words.

"I want," Sam crawled the rest of the way to Dean and slid his lips across the other man's, "to fuck you." He whispered the words against Dean's swollen lips, the coppery taste of blood still lingering in his mouth. Pulling back Sam opened the lube and squirted a generous amount on his hand. Fingers curling quickly around his cock he slicked up his hot flesh and stared into Dean's eyes for a few moments before pushing up to his feet and looming over the other man. "Get up."

Dean shoved up to his feet, swallowing thickly once more. The words had done exactly what Dean had anticipated, slamming into his gut and flaring heat through him. He stared at Sam, head tilted up slightly as he considered the man, waiting for the next command. The way they clashed and collided was killing him, throwing him into overload, and Dean was seriously starting to doubt his ability to even last past Sam first touch.

Sam licked his lips, grabbed Dean's shoulders and turned him around. He stood there for a moment, eyes moving up and down Dean's body, fingers biting into his shoulders. Eyes narrowing Sam leaned forward and ghosted his lips down the side of Dean's neck then pushed him roughly toward the bed. Everything in him was alive and burning; Sam struggled to contain everything, the power, the way he'd been taught to take what he wanted. Because... there was _Dean_. Rolling his bottom lip under his teeth he watched as Dean crawled up on to the bed. Jaw clenched Sam reached down and shoved Dean's legs apart, hands moving over the man's strong thighs and settling on the curves of his ass. Squeezing, Sam let go, kneeled on the bed to crawl up and lower himself onto Dean's body. It was almost tender the way he wanted to lie there, touch every part of Dean but his cock slid teasingly against the cleft of a perfect ass and all he could do was moan and slide down, grabbing his shaft and pushing against Dean's tight hole.

Heart skipping a beat Dean sucked in another sharp breath, hips canting back instinctively. It occurred to him that Sam was literally just going to _fuck_ him and Dean arms suddenly felt weak. "Shit..." he groaned, head dropping down as he curled fingers into the blanket beneath him.”Do it Sam. Fucking _do it_ ," he growled, rolling back impatiently. He wanted everything, the burn he knew was going to come, he knew he could handle it and things would feel almost better with it. Every touch was still sparking and crackling along his skin and Dean was so hard the waiting was nearly torture.

"Fuck," Sam's body shuddered and he slammed forward into Dean's ass. In a flash his cock was buried in a blinding heat and the muscles in his arms started to shake as he fought to hold himself up off Dean's body. "Jesus... _F..uck_ ". It was like being thrown into a pool of molten lava. Sam's nerve endings were all firing at once, his vision blurring around the edges and his heart slammed into his chest wall. _Never_ , he'd never felt anything like it. His skin was so sensitive, tingling and buzzing and it was almost painful wherever they touched. "Dean..." he murmured - somehow - needing to know that Dean still wanted this, _wanted him._

Dean had to suck in quick breaths over and over, trying to steady himself. Every part of him was spinning out of control, body snapping with the sharp sting of pain. Dean could feel Sam along every inch of him, filling up, splitting him wide and Dean was momentarily worried he might just pass out from the _too much_ sensation. "S-sam..." he gasped, rocking back, calming the inner flare of pain until he felt he had a better grip on the situation. Pleasure shot through him moments later and Dean rocked back, "move. _Fuck_ Sam move..." Dean pleaded, needing something _more_. He wanted to be _fucked_ and he knew Sam wouldn't hold back with him.

Running shaking hands down Dean's back Sam gripped his hips and pulled him up to his knees. Squeezing his eyes shut Sam pulled slowly out of Dean's tight muscle, feeling the loss everywhere. Only the time it took for one heartbeat passed and Sam gasped in a breath then slammed his hips forward. The sensation of sinking into Dean again nearly knocked Sam apart. It was just the right side of too much. Sliding one hand along Dean's spine Sam withdrew and his body fell into a slow rhythm, teasing, arms and legs trembling.

The slow pace was blowing Dean's mind apart piece by piece and he moaned, rocking back to meet Sam's hips every time he sank back into him. "Sam..." he murmured, pushing up and straightening his arms beneath him, fingers curling into the blanket. "Harder," Dean groaned, sliding back as much as possible into Sam's hips. Dean couldn't name it but it was like every thrust forward washed over him, consumed him, and rendered him utterly useless beyond shaky gasps and pleas.

The word blew Sam's control apart. His hips slammed into Dean's ass, again and again - his hand slapped down onto Dean's hip, fingers curling over the jut of his hipbone and yanking his hips back with enough force to bruise his flesh. "Fuck...Dean...." Struggling to kneel up, dragging Dean's body with him lifted one foot onto the mattress to give himself more leverage then lost himself in the rhythm of his thrusts. Dean made the kind of sounds that sent shivers down Sam's spine. Each thrust in was met by a thrust back - _God_ Dean wanted it, wanted Sam inside him. Settling his other hand on Dean's hips Sam shifted, angling his thrusts to find the spot that would drive Dean over the edge. He wanted to watch the man come apart. Digging his nails into the tender flesh of Dean's hips Sam moaned and rocked his hips forward.

Gasping hard Dean dropped down onto his elbow, reaching down roughly to curl a hand around his cock and stroke in time with Sam's thrusts. "Sam..." he moaned loudly, body tensing as sparking as the tip of Sam's cock slammed hard into his prostate and nearly sent him collapsing down into the mattress. Dean's shoulders shook as he stroked along his flesh, twisting his wrist, squeezing roughly. Then everything seemed to flare into one bright spot and Dean jerked forward, thick streams of come shooting down into the bed, across his fingers, muscles clenching like a vice around Sam still moving within him. He moaned Sam's name, nearly screamed it, completely shocked by the way his body seemed to be humming with pleasure, almost too intense to be manageable. Dean was struggling to breathe around his lover's name still falling from his lips, body rocking instinctively back into Sam's.

Sam's breath stuttered to a halt as Dean's body clenched tight around him, the muscle pulsing and throbbing. One more battering thrust and Sam's orgasm shot through him without warning. Crying out Sam flung his head back then fell forward onto Dean's body, hips rolling as his cock pulsed out his release. Eyelids fluttering closed Sam heaved in a breath as Dean collapsed beneath him. His hips twitched and rolled as his orgasm died off, his body thrumming. He had no concept of time, no concept of anything other than Dean's body, slick and hot beneath his. Moaning out his lover's name Sam pulled away and fell down beside Dean grabbing a handful of the man's hair and yanking his head around to crush their mouth together in a desperate kiss.

At some point Dean thought the sparking of electricity across their touches should have ebbed away, died down to something not quite so intense, but it wasn't that way. As his tongue moved slowly along Sam's he could still feel it, there just beneath the surface, and Dean found he never wanted it to go away. He wanted it to always feel this fucking amazing every time they touched and kissed. Dean half slid onto Sam's body, sweat damp skin crushing together as the mouths part wide, the kiss taking on a slow and tantalizing pace. Dean thought he could be quite content kissing Sam like this for days.

All Sam could feel were lips, wet and slick; Dean's body was heavy, holding him down, pinning him to the moment. He didn't want it to end and slid his hands down his lover's damp flesh. "Shit..." he murmured into the kiss. "Can't stop touching you..." His hands moved lazily over Dean's back, his ass and back up his sides.

Dean's lips twitched into a smile against the kiss, humming a soft agreement as he brushed their lips together, "you're a little addicting." It was more of a truth than Dean had ever spoken. Sam was like some dangerous magnet that Dean was fairly certain he'd never be able to completely break away from, no matter what happened in the future. Lifting up slightly, he gazed down at Sam, memorizing the post bliss relaxation across his face. "That was really fucking hot," Dean chuckled softly, dropping down to reconnect their lips once more.

Sucking on dean's bottom lip Sam struggled to find the will to open his eyes. "God...m'tired," he murmured. Sam rarely slept more than a couple of hours a night - his mind was always whirling with orders and thoughts - the unwanted gift of people's emotions flooding him. Tonight, his mind was quiet as though, somehow Dean was filtering out all the shit that he had to deal with all the time. Letting his head fall back onto the mattress Sam finally forced his eyes open... "You’ll... still stay with me?" He looked away, suddenly nervous. "Tonight, I mean."

"Of course," Dean nodded, not even a question in his mind. On most occasions Dean wouldn't consider himself the cuddling type but the way it felt to have Sam's skin against his was too much to pass up on. So he settled against Sam's side and laid his head on his shoulder, shifting around until he could pull the blanket up around them. Once he was settled it occurred to him that Sam probably wasn't the cuddling type and he looked up slowly, "uh... is this okay?" Dean chuckled, surprised by how tentative they both were after sharing something so mind blowing.

Nodding silently, not trusting his voice Sam simply tightened his hold on Dean and closed his eyes again. He heard the storm dying down and was already falling asleep to the sound of the rain pounding on the roof and Dean's gentle breathing.


	3. Chapter 3

Waking up to the feel of crackling heat along his skin was surprisingly pleasant and Dean simply lay against Sam's chest for a long time, not opening his eyes. Each time the man inhaled he rose slightly before falling with the exhale and it brought a small smile to Dean's face. They apparently hadn't moved all night and Dean had a hunch it was the best night’s sleep either had ever had. It certainly was for him. Turning into Sam's chest Dean pressed a small kiss to the skin before pushing up slightly, admiring the smooth panes of Sam's cheekbones, his jaw, the peaceful way he looked now, unburdened by the world. Dean crooked his arm across Sam's chest and settled his chin down along his forearm, content to watch the man sleep until he woke and broke the quiet moment.

A smile tugged at the corners of Sam's mouth long before he opened his eyes. Turning his head toward the sound of breathing he slid his hand up over the warm body lying on him and rubbed the sleep warm skin slowly. "You stayed," he breathed as he opened his eyes. He'd fallen asleep hoping, but not believing that Dean would stay - half expecting him to be gone before the morning light bled into his room.

The slight surprise in Sam's words clenched Dean's heart and he smiled softly, wondering what exactly had him most surprised. "I did. I wasn't very inclined to go," Dean chuckled and spread his fingers on Sam's chest. "Actually, I'm pretty sure I didn't even wake up once last night. No dreams or anything. It was... really nice," he sighed a little wistfully and reached his free hand up to card through Sam's hair.

"Nice..." Sam could think of a million words he would have used before that. Letting his head fall to the side he was surprised to see how late in the morning it was. "I never... sleep this late." He frowned and shook his head slightly. Taking a deep breath he shifted slightly, the pressure of Dean's hip against his crotch already sparking his body to life.

Glancing toward the window Dean smiled and shook his head, "no, don't think I have either." Stretching his body out Dean flopped onto the mattress on his back, arms extending above his head as he moaned softly. "This is a fantastic bed," he pointed out then looked over at Sam. "Or... you're a fantastic bed. Either way, I could get used to sleeping on you both quite frequently," Dean chuckled at himself, likely far giddier then he'd ever been just after waking. Something was _alive_ in him and Dean was completely ready to pursue that.

Just like that Sam thought about the fact that he didn't stay anywhere. Azazel had never let Sam stay in the same place for more than a few weeks and certainly never let him get to know anyone. Rolling away from Dean onto his side Sam closed his eyes. "I should call you a cab." The way he felt now, it made no sense to pursue this, draw it out. He'd never experienced anything like that night before, just thinking about it sent his blood racing through his veins. And sleeping, holding someone, being held. Sam's lips pressed together in a thin line. Everything in him told him to get the man out now; make this in to just another encounter.

The clenching in Dean's heart returned, though this time less in sympathy and more in surprised rejection. "I... what's wrong? Did I do something?" He thought over the very brief conversation so far and couldn't place any one specific thing that would make Sam dismiss him so coldly.

Dragging a hand down his face Sam almost gave in. He almost rolled back to face Dean and pulled him up against his chest, held him there until the strange tightness in the man's voice disappeared. "I..." Sam swallowed, "I just asked you to stay the night, not move in." Biting down hard on his bottom lip Sam felt something ache in his chest like a wound splitting open.

Staring at Sam's back Dean refused to acknowledge the now sharp sting of rejection. "Fine," he said quietly, wishing the word didn't sound so strangled coming out. Huffing out a loud breath to keep any unwanted emotions at bay Dean slid out of the bed and quickly moved forward, snatching his jeans and boxers and stepping into them. He couldn't believe Sam was just sending him away after the way things had been between them the night before. It was like a hard punch in the gut and Dean desperately wanted to drop down beside him and remind him what had been so amazing but Sam wasn't even _looking_ at him and he couldn't take even more rejection. So he yanked his shirt down hard over his head and knelt to grab his boots and socks. "You know Sam, I _knew_ it was gonna be like this," he forced out, shaking his head roughly. "From the very beginning I knew. But I had to give you a chance..." Dean bit down hard on his lip and stood once he had both shoes on, fixing his gaze on Sam's shoulder. "What? I don't even get a good riddance? No... nothing?" Dean choked on the last word and turned away sharply.

Sam clenched his hands into fists to stop them shaking. "You don't know... me... " he said quietly as tears pricked at the edges of his eyes. "Get out." It was the hardest thing he'd ever said. Everything in him wanted to scramble up off the bed and grab Dean, make him stay, tell him that he was lying and nothing could be further from the truth. But those dark yellow eyes haunted him, the threats every time he'd stayed somewhere too long. Sam knew he was worthless, incapable of love the way that people... like Dean... loved.

"Jesus," Dean sucked in a surprised, painful breath, hand curling into his shirt. It was strange, how the words sparked in him like Sam's touch did, only the complete opposite in its severity. He forced himself not to look back at the man as he crossed the room out into the main hallway. Dean curled his fingers along the hall table for a moment, blinking rapidly before fixing on a pad of paper. Swallowing thickly he snatched a pen from the draw and scribbled his number, not quite willing to cut off all ties, leave this to fate, just in case Sam changed his mind. There was, after all, always hope for a person. No matter how damned they felt.

Forcing himself down the rest of the hallway he tugged the front door open and stepped out onto the front step, shutting the door quietly behind him despite the temptation to slam it. Dean was unprepared for pain like this and his mind whispered with gentle words, trying to be soothing, relaxing, just along the edge of _I told you so_. Stepping out into the driveway Dean closed his eyes and tilted his head up to the sun. There were some feelings, like last night, that Dean had waited his whole life to experience. And then there was this, one feeling of pain and rejection that no man ever wanted to go through. Sighing softly, Dean dropped his head and disappeared into the mid morning sunshine.

With a sweep of his hand Sam knocked the nightstand, lamp and desk flying across the room. The sound of all the wood crashing into the wall was almost deafening and didn't do a damn thing to make Sam feel any better. Pulling his knees up as close to his chest as he could Sam stared out the window with watery eyes. Nothing Azazel had ever done to Sam had ever hurt as much as what he'd just done to himself.

-=-=-=-

"Interesting game you seem to be playing, Samuel."

Sam's lashes fluttered closed as the deep voice gnawed its way past his defences. _Azazel._ "You don't make many social calls." Sam's throat was tight making his voice sound squeezed, condensed. He turned to face the demon. "Hello."

"Hello, Samuel. It's been a while." He walked closer, eyes moving over the room. Drawing in a deep breath he closed his eyes, lifting his nose into the air then raising an eyebrow. "The word that's come to me from... _around_ , well," he chuckled darkly, "there are quite a few words..."

Sam shuddered unconsciously and stepped back until he was pressed up against the wall. "Words?" Brow furrowed Sam scratched at his forehead. He'd not been expecting the Demon - but then - scheduling was never Azazel's forte.

Azazel lowered himself slowly into the armchair, crossing his legs and resting his hands on his lap. "Let's see," he said. "Oh yes, reckless, distracted, preoccupied." He paused to brush a finger along his eyebrow. "I have more. Would you like to hear some more words about you, Samuel?"

Shaking his head Sam inched his way closer to the door. Not that there was any point. Azazel was far stronger, smarter and had the benefit of being completely incapable of feeling guilt or regret. "I don't want to hear..."

"Oh, some of them are very good." Azazel almost hissed out the words as he cut Sam off. "Insolent? That's one of my _personal_ favourites."

Sam was going to snap the neck of the Demon who'd been spying on him.

"You'll do no such thing, Samuel." Azazel's hand flicked up for a moment and Sam flew from where he leaned against the wall to slam into the floor on his back right at Azazel's feet. His head collided with the hardwood floor with such force that everything blurred and disappeared in a foggy haze for a few moments.

Just as the world started to right itself Azazel's fingers curled into his palm and Sam's body lurched forward as he air was suddenly cut off.

"Now, Samuel, you’d better listen _very_ carefully. There will be no more warnings."

The invisible hold on Sam's neck loosened slightly and Sam wheezed in a few breaths.

Azazel leaned down to pin Sam's eyes with the black of his own. "I don't know why you're so wrapped up in this _Dean_ fellow but you're neglecting your duty. I didn't invest all these years in you simply for you to screw everything up because of a piece of ass.

Azazel's invisible grasp on Sam's neck tightened again. Just as Sam's vision started to blur once more the grip loosened and air seeped into his battered lungs. Gasping in a few breaths Sam struggled to move. He’d asked Dean to leave days ago and this just made him regret it even more.

"Are we clear on what's happening, Samuel?" Azazel leaned down over Sam's face. "Get rid of him. He's unreadable and you know _nothing_ about. I've humoured these playthings of yours in the past but now's _not_ the time, Samuel." Azazel stood up from the chair and stepped forward, one foot on either side of Sam's hips. "Have I made myself clear?"

Sam struggled against Azazel's hold on him. His hand clawed at his throat as though somehow he could loosen the invisible binding and squeeze more air into his lungs. He was angry. Azazel had not right to interfere, no right to threaten Dean. Sam's power shifted within him body, his hands falling to his sides as heat began to surge through him. He could feel the familiar tingling sensation in his palms. No one could make him give up Dean - not yet.

Sam's thought were jolted to a halt when his body lifted a few feet off the ground and slammed back down almost immediately. Pain shot through Sam's body as the air was knocked completely out of his lungs. As soon as he managed to suck in some air he cried out, lifting his arms up and watching as deep cuts opened along the tender skin of his forearms. _Azazel's favourite spot._ Blood poured from the wounds and Sam's body curled sideways as pain clawed at his body.

"Don't you _dare_ even think of using your powers against me, Boy." Azazel squatted won over Sam's slender hips. "I made you what you are, Samuel. I can end you just as easily."

Sam closed his eyes and nodded slowly - eyes darting from the blood sliding down his arms to Azazel's face. "Yes..." he murmured.

Azazel's powerful grip loosened and Sam shifted on the floor as pain ran in waves through his body.

Pushing back up to stand Azazel laughed darkly. "Now, Samuel, clean yourself up and get to work." He took a few steps towards the door. "Hell," he laughed, "take the night off, fuck around with your little toy. Tomorrow. You find those children, get rid of their families or I'll be back to make your life a little less... distracting."

Sam didn't miss the veiled threat. He heard the door close, felt Azazel leave and finally, relaxed, dropping his head down onto the floor. Tears trailing slowly down his cheeks Sam reached down to his pocket and struggled to pull out his cell phone. He pushed the contacts button and managed to call up Dean's number before dropping the phone to the floor in front of his face. He wasn't sure if Dean had answered... just spoke his name softly a few times. "Please come..." The world tilted again and Sam's eyes fluttered closed.

-=-=-=-

The phone call had come right in the middle of Dean's meditation time. He was sitting on the bed, eyes closed, consciousness cleared as much as possible until the ring penetrated the silence. Dean's head tilted to the side, contemplative, and the ring sounded once more. Blowing out a low breath Dean unfolded his legs, sliding off the bed and padding silently over to the phone. "Hello?" He asked curiously when one glance at the device told him he didn't recognize the number and his heart fluttered with a little hope.

It had been almost four days since he left Sam's but he recognized Sam's voice and the vague whisper, the pain laced cry, had his heart slamming into double time. "Sam? I'll be right there okay? Sam can you hear me?" Dean was already fumbling across the room, sliding quickly into clothing and shoes, snatching at his keys and bee lining for the front door. There was no answer on the phone but Dean could hear a faint breathing that said Sam was still alive.

Dean kept the phone balanced between the crook of his shoulder and ear for the entire drive, needing to have the vehicle in case Sam needed to be rushed to the hospital, murmuring the occasional soft, "its okay Sam. I'm almost there." Panic was rising up in him as his mind tried to supply some idea of what could have happened. Just the idea of Sam being hurt, alone in his house... or possibly not alone since something had to have been the cause for Sam's pain.

When Dean arrived at the secluded house he snapped the phone shut, staring at the closed door for a long moment before surging forward. It was locked and Dean frowned, shaking his head before stepping back and kicking it hard. The wood cracked under the force of his boot and Dean shouldered it the rest of the way open, stumbling forward and drawing up to a sharp stop. Sam was lying in a puddle of his own blood on the floor, phone still resting against the side of his head.

"Jesus," Dean gasped in surprise, stumbling forward and kneeling beside the man. "Sam?" He whispered, hissing when he spotted the wide gashes in Sam's arms. "Damnit," Dean growled in frustration, pushing up and hurrying through the house to the kitchen. He stumbled around for a few moments before retrieving two dish towels and a large roll of tape. Sam wasn't likely to have medical supplies but Dean could make do.

Returning to the main entry way Dean knelt once more beside Sam, ignoring the blood that seeped into his jeans as he lifted Sam's upper body and pulled him slowly over his thighs. "It's okay, I've got you," Dean whispered, swallowing thickly as he reached out for one arm and wrapped a dish towel tightly around the cut, securing it closed with a thick binding of tape. It wasn't the best treatment out there but Dean couldn't rightly take Sam to a hospital. After all, this would look like clear cut self mutilation to everyone else and that would mean Sam being locked up for seventy two hours at least. Somehow, Dean didn't think Sam would like that very much.

That and Dean _knew_ this wasn't self mutilation. Someone had done this Sam. Or something. Dean cringed and quickly bound the other arm, securing the dish towel to add enough pressure to stop the bleeding. Shifting around Dean moved until he could rise to his feet, pulling Sam up with him. The man was heavy but nothing Dean couldn't handle, at least not enough to get him across the house to the bedroom. Turning slightly Dean huffed out a breath as he gently laid the man down on the mattress, stooping to lift his legs and tuck them under the blanket.

Dropping down beside him Dean reached out and laid a couple fingers onto Sam's brow, frowning as he took a few steadying breaths and felt a familiar stirring of sensations within him. "You're gonna be okay Sam," he said a few minutes later, feeling suddenly exhausted now that he was certain the man would be alright, too many days of not enough sleep mixed with a constant upset of emotions finally catching up with him. Dean kicked off his shoes and stood, sliding out of his blood soaked jeans and pulling his shirt off.

Sliding onto the mattress beside Sam once more Dean tucked his fingers under Sam's head, gently feeling along the scalp. Whatever had attacked Sam had definitely gotten in a few good hits and the cuts before... well... Dean felt a little too curious on the matter. Especially since he was pretty certain Sam wouldn't give him a real answer when he regained consciousness. "Gonna kill 'em..." Dean muttered as he settled beside Sam and pulled him into his arms, sighing at the comforting feel of the man against his body. Dean was fairly certain that Sam was going to send him away again once he woke and the thought made his stomach churn uncomfortably but he needed to know Sam was okay. The overwhelming urge to protect the man pulsed through his veins and Dean hummed softly, letting his eyes close safe with the knowledge that Sam was safe here with him.

-=-=-=-=

Awake. Sam didn't open his eyes. He was warm, rested, a slight smile on his face as he shifted slightly in strong arms. _Safe_. Rolling his head into the warmth of sleep-heated flesh Sam pressed his lips against a strong shoulder, refusing to let himself wake up. _Don't open your eyes_. Reaching out with his mind Sam felt a gentle presence and nestled closer. _Dean_

It was oddly bright in Dean’s dream, a different sort of place, somewhere that the light was tangible and laid across his skin like something thick and heavy. It wasn't warm though. It wasn't cold. It just _was_ and Dean twisted under the pressure around him, familiar with the grip like fingers curling around him. He was just a boy here, no more than twelve, and he could feel the gazes fixed on him, whispers trailing along after him as he moved.

No one knew him here, not really, but all knew _of_ him and Dean hated the pedestal they seemed to push him up on. That's how it always was where these people were involved. Always looking for something to worship and lay praise upon. It made Dean uncomfortable, made him shift away from the light. He couldn't see any specific faces, couldn't decipher any specific words, and just knew he was the one they watched.

 _Dean_. Someone whispered in the distance and fear sparked up inside him, the pressure in his chest building. He knew what was to come, what was expected of him, he'd been raised since a child for this one fate. It didn't stop him from being scared, more scared than he'd ever been. Dean's breath quickened, heart slamming into overtime as blood coursed rapidly through his veins. Dean twisted slightly, wondering why he was meant to go down this path once more.

Sam shifted closer, eyes finally fluttering open as he lifted his fingers to Dean's cheek. "Dean," he murmured. He liked the way the name sounded. _God_ \- he'd called him. Images of Azazel's angry visage ran through Sam's mind. "Dean..." his voice was louder, slightly panicky. Wisps of Dean's dream lingered in his mind forcing a confused expression onto Sam's face.

Blinking his eyes open slowly Dean stared up at Sam, frowning slightly, "Sam?" Things caught up to him a moment later and he sat up, turning to Sam and pushing him back on the mattress. "Don't move too much, you were pretty badly hurt," Dean frowned and reached out for Sam's bandaged arms. "How are you feeling?" They'd get to everything else; Dean just needed to make sure Sam was okay before the man could send him away again.

Locking his eyes with Dean's, Sam twisted his wrist in the other man's grip so he could slide his palm over his cheek. "Who?" His brow furrowed, Dean's fear still whirling in his mind, "who raised you... did they hurt you?" His thumb ghosted across the corner of Dean's mouth.

"What?" Dean's confusion returned, frown deepening even as he leaned into Sam's touch. "What does that have to do with anything?" His lips twitched slightly in a nervous smile before he once more reached out to inspect the cut on Sam's forearm. It had stopped bleeding and looked... surprisingly healed. Dean blinked down at it before looking up at Sam and shrugging, "I suppose you could say I was raised in a foster home of sorts." It seemed like a good idea to keep Sam's thoughts on this specific topic, even if he wasn't necessarily inclined to talk about it.

"You were dreaming," Sam muttered, suddenly embarrassed - ashamed he'd blurted it out. Tilting his head Sam's fingers kept moving over Dean's skin, sliding gently. "I .. you came. I called you..." Fear bubbled up inside Sam, his muscles tensing as his eyes suddenly darted around to look for signs of Azazel. Trying to push up he found himself held there by Dean's weight. "He's gone... is he gone?"

"Hey, hey Sam it's okay," Dean soothed, pressing his palm against Sam's cheek and focusing all his energy on calming him. The gentle wave of sparks shot across his fingers and Dean smiled reassuringly. "He... the guy who did this to you? He's gone. It's just us here," Dean tilted Sam's head, forcing their eyes to lock. "Look at me, you're okay now. He's not ever gonna hurt you like that again okay? Not now that I'm here." His whisper was quiet and sure, completely confident in his answer.

"Y..You can't stay here, Dean." Sam's eyes were wide with fear. Panting softly he rubbed his cheek against the other man's hand. "Please ... He..." Sam squirmed under Dean's weight and worked his arms free to wrap them around the man's neck. Sam had never been scared for someone before, he'd never had anything to lose. Tears welled up in his eyes, hot and heavy as he buried his face in the crook of Dean's neck.

Dean sighed softly and pursed his lips, words bubbling on the tip of his tongue, a million things he could say but not now. This wasn't the time. "I can handle myself," Dean assured Sam, cupping the man's jaw with both hands and pulling back. Dean had never seen such an intense sadness on a person’s face though he realized that Sam felt everything with that intensity, passion and heat, anger and sadness. Dipping down Dean pressed a small kiss to each corner of Sam's eyes, catching tears before they could roll down his cheeks. "It doesn't have to be set in stone Sam. There's a chance... for more. You can't give up on that yet," Dean tried to smile at him though he was certain he looked sadder than anything else.

"Give up?" Sam's muscles relaxed slowly and he loosened his hold on Dean's neck to fall back on the mattress. "Give up what? I have nothing _to_ give up. Dean, there are things you don't understand about me." He closed his eyes for a few moments trying to sort out his own thoughts from the lingering images of the stolen dream. "Fate..." Sam's lips twitched momentarily into a mirthless smile, "what was your fate? In your dream?" Blinking his eyes open Sam watched the man's face change.

Watching him, Dean sighed softly and shook his head, "it was... an expectation." Wetting his lips Dean leaned in and pressed a slow kiss to Sam's mouth. "Are you gonna send me away again?" He asked quietly against Sam's lips, fingers slowly slipping up into the man's hair to gently stroke.

Shaking his head slowly, Sam's lips parted as his breath puffed out softly against Dean's mouth. His eyes closed, a lazy smile curving onto his lips. "A little while..." he mumbled. His body still ached and each time he shifted below Dean he could feel bruises; it wasn't nearly as bad as he'd expected. Allowing himself to focus on the weight and heat of Dean's body he lifted his chin to return the kiss. So soft, Dean's lips were full and smooth and shoved all thoughts of anything else from Sam's mind.

"A little while..." Dean echoed not certain how those words affected him now. Opening his mouth wide he pressed a hard kiss down into Sam's lips, tongue flicking forward. There was something intoxicating about kissing Sam and Dean felt like he could never get enough. Pulling back a moment later Dean stared down at Sam, cupping his jaw once more, "how are you feeling? You never told me. Are you in any pain?" He whispered the words softly, shifting back enough to run his hand down Sam's chest slowly, watching for any flicker of pain.

Sam's eyes fluttered open. "Hmm?" Sliding his hands down Dean's back he spread his fingers wide to absorb the ever-present tingling sensation. "A little...I ache." Frowning slightly, he looked away for a few moments, "sorry I called ... I guess it wasn't as bad as I thought." He remembered the cuts, being slammed into the floor. It was all a bit of a blur of words and threats, pain and blood.

"It was bad enough," Dean insisted quickly, dropping down to brush their lips once more. "And I'm not. Sorry that you called. I was hoping you would." Dean's fingers shifted along Sam's skin in slow strokes, caressing every inch of flesh, ghosting the tips of his fingers along Sam's boxers. "You can call me whenever okay?" Dean chuckled softly, dipping forward to suck gentle kisses along Sam's jaw.

"How come you ... don't hate me?" It made Sam wonder. In his world, no one did anything without having a reason; wanting something. But Dean had nothing to gain by being there and helping Sam, soothing him, _kissing_ him. Staring up into Dean's eyes Sam scratched at the towel wrapped around his arm.

Smiling softly Dean shook his head, reaching up to tuck Sam's hair behind his ear. "It would have been pointless to hate you," Dean explained, though he was pretty sure it didn't really explain anything at all. "I was hurt when you sent me away. But... I think I understand... at least part of it," Dean shrugged and lowered his head to suck kisses along Sam's neck. "But I want to make you feel good now, so let's just not think about all those other things now okay?" He murmured into the skin, flicking his tongue over Sam's Adam’s apple.

"Feel good," Sam echoed as his fingers curled over Dean's shoulders. Surely, he could allow himself a few minutes with Dean - and then - and then he'd get back to work. If he could find the child that Azazel was so certain was in town Sam could be gone before Dean even realized. That pinch of pain bit at his heart again and he slid his fingers through Dean's hair and pressed him closer. A flush crept up his neck and bloomed onto his cheeks.

Dean's kept his touches slow and tender as he stroked along every inch of Sam's chest, enjoying that sizzle spark of Sam's flesh. Dean's fingers nudged under Sam's boxers, pushing at the elastic, sliding down until Sam's hips lifted enough to gently push the cotton below his rising erection. "I love the way your skin feels, I could spend forever touching you," Dean murmured and cringed, knowing a comment like that was the very reason Sam had sent him away last time. Swallowing thickly Dean wrapped his fingers around Sam's cock, squeezing the base and stroking him into fullness, eager to keep his mind off the words he'd involuntarily let loose.

Flinching back from Dean's words Sam swallowed hard even as his body drew forward into the buzzing touch. _So_ much, so different and if things were different. Dean's fingers curling around his aching cock anchored his thoughts to the moment. Kept him in the now. Sliding his fingers down through Dean's hair his palm followed the curve of Dean's back to slip under the waist band of his boxers. Fingers curling hard into the muscle Sam moaned softly as he rolled his hips up into Dean's. Unaccustomed as he was to the slow pace, the gentle touches - Sam liked it. Desire crept through his body as slow as molasses; his own want teased at him.

Twisting his wrist with a slow drag up Dean continued to suck kisses onto Sam's neck, feeling the man relax under him, curve up into the touch. "Sam," Dean whispered and kissed back up to brush his lips against Sam's. Dean was fairly sure he could hear Sam's blood pulsing in his veins, could feel his heart racing as his arousal grew. "Sam," he repeated against Sam's mouth, tongue swirling slowly forward. Something was changing in Dean, between them, like the air thickening and the world tilting, and some part of Dean was terrified while the other only wanted _more_.

It was like sliding into a world that only contained the two of them. Sam pushed at the material covering Dean's hips, sliding it down until he could feel the man's hard length pressing into solid thigh. Letting out an impatient puff of air Sam's arm snaked down between their bodies, pushing until he could grasp Dean's shaft with his long fingers. "Dean..." there was so little time for them to be together.

"Shh, just us..." Dean whispered and realized belatedly that it wasn't so much words as his thoughts telling him that Sam was scared, was counting down the minutes before they even knew a deadline was around the corner. Dean should have meditated longer, he was slipping and each step would take him into dangerous territory. "Just us," Dean repeated and let his strokes match pace with Sam's, breath quickening as his arousal heightened and shot sparks up his spine.

"Us..." Sam had never been part of an _us_ or a _we_. His heart fluttered helplessly, hand stroking firmly ... slowing to match Dean's more gentle rhythm. _Finally_ Sam thought he could _feel_ Dean, his thoughts, a sense of safety, comfort. Moaning softly his body pressed up against Dean's, free hand sliding up to cup the back of Dean's neck and grip it tightly. _Just now._ His hips were in motion, rolling ceaselessly sending his cock sliding through the other man's grasp. "Dean..." He tried to capture Dean's lips with his, missed, mouth sliding wet and hot across the man's cheek.

Tightening his grip slightly Dean dragged his palm up slow along the skin, body in constant movement in the pursuit of _more_. The flare of heat building up in him with each steady stroke of Sam's hand along his skin was blurring his vision and Dean turned into Sam's mouth. Their lips slid together in a slow, gentle pass before he pressed forward, deepening the action, letting his tongue pass along Sam's in a gentle glide. His hand quickened, the need to feel Sam's body along his intense enough to have him pressing impossibly closer. Moaning as Sam's pace matched his once more Dean deepened the kiss further, pushing Sam down into the pillow as he poured the bubbling heat of energy forward, electricity almost too little to describe what passed between them.

It was out of control, everything. Quivering with heat, passion and the power within him intensified every sensation. Curling his body up, around, forward Sam sank into the desperate slide of their mouths. Heat flashed through his body - every nerve excited and vibrating. Sam's head fell back against the bed - he stretched his neck out long and taut, offering it up and _feeling_ Dean's lust drive him forward to re-claim the flesh. The instant Dean's mouth took hold of the flesh on Sam's neck his body jolted up. "Please..." he murmured, not even knowing why the word was there falling from his lips. Leg sliding over one of Dean's Sam's hips rocked forward, his heart flipped round in the power that sped through his chest. Breath jammed into his unmoving lungs, Sam shuddered then cried out as he came; his release shot between them in slick, heated pulses.

"Jesus..." Dean growled, feeling the heat of Sam's release along his fingers. Sam's hand continued to move along his skin and Dean's hips jerked forward, muscles tensing as heat pulsed through him and finally burst along his skin. A low moan fell from his lips as his own release shot up along Sam's grip, hips continuing a steady snap forward with each wave. He collapsed down onto Sam's body, shoulders shaking slightly. Dean's lips pressed into the nearest patch of skin along the man's neck, releasing small puffs of air along the flesh. Dean could feel Sam's heart racing against his chest, slowing as his body cooled.

Gripping Dean's neck Sam twisted under the weight and heat of his body withdrawing his hand from between them and sliding it over Dean's hip. "I want.. us... I want us," he murmured, already knowing time was drawing to a close for them. Sighing out a breath that ruffled Dean's soft hair Sam's body began a slight shiver as the swelling of power within him settled and dimmed.

"I want us too," Dean echoed softly pushing up to stare down into Sam's eyes. There was a sadness there that made Dean sigh softly, "you not going to let us have that." It was a statement because Dean knew and he didn't want to force Sam into saying it. There was something else keeping them from being an _us_ and Dean frowned, "what is it that holds you back? Why does _more_ seem like such impossibility to you?"

Sam bit down on his bottom lip hard enough to taste blood, trying to keep himself from straying from his course. "He... did you see what he did?" He could never tell Dean who Azazel was, how did you even begin to make someone understand that you were raised and trained by demons - like some kind of ridiculous golden child. Sam started to tear angrily at the blood stained cloth covering his arms. The pain of being slammed into the floor beat back into his mind as his nails scratched at his own flesh. "Did you see...." he murmured, eyes wide, filled with fear. He just wanted to stay there, stay in Dean's arms, the heat, _the more_.

"I saw," Dean said quietly, voice surprisingly calm even with the swell of nerves and anger rising in him. "All the more reason you _shouldn't_ let him hold control over you any longer. You're _strong_ Sam. I can feel it. And I-" Dean cut off sharply something blinding a warning across his mind. Biting down on his tongue Dean reached out and swatted Sam's hand away, stopping him from picking at the scabs. The cuts were more healed than they should have been and that warning intensified even as Dean laid his fingers over the place Sam had broken the skin and brought blood to the surface. Dean snatched the rag to dab at the blood and pressed his fingers firmly to the skin, familiar sparks shooting up his fingers.

Sam froze, the way his wounds looked finally sinking into his brain. "These were..." he shook his head and fought his way out from under Dean. Crawling to the edge of the bed Sam dropped his legs to the floor and finished tugging the materials off his arms. "What did..." The emotion disappeared from Sam's face, his protective facade falling into place once more. "You... you don't know him." Dean knew _nothing_ of what Sam faced each time the Demon was near. The dread, the weight of knowing what it was his destiny to do.

Steeling himself for the tension in the room Dean slid off the opposite end of the bed, easily gathering his clothing and stepping swiftly into it. "I know something about being forced into a life you weren't meant for," Dean informed, shoving away that warning that was still pulsing along his mind. He was letting too much slip, was relaxing his control because being with Sam felt too natural. Walking slowly around the bed Dean reached out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind Sam's ear. "You don't have to do it alone. Not now," he wet his lips nervously, waiting for Sam to brush him away once more.

Turning his head into the touch Sam's lips brush over Dean's wrist, eyes closing. The very idea that he could be _with_ someone instead of alone every moment of every day. Even for a little white, a few moments. Curling his hand over Dean's wrist Sam smiled up at him, opened his eyes and kissed the line of blood pumping through Dean's veins. Then, almost as though he was punched, the full impact of a presence slammed into him. Sam's entire body jolted away from Dean's hand and he fell face down on the floor. Hands curling into the carpet he moaned softly, crawling toward his clothes. _The child._ If he could get to the child, please Azazel, just do this one thing. Scrabbling at his clothes Sam wiped frantically at the come on his chest and belly. The irony of the situation was burning into him, stinging his eyes. Throwing the shirt aside and sparing no glance at Dean he pushed up to his feet and tugged his jeans on.

"Sam?" Dean asked, confused as he trailed after the man. "What's the matter? What happened?" Dean could tell just by the frantic pace of his movements that something drastic had changed but for the life of him he couldn't figure out what it could be. _It's time_. The words resounded in him and Dean's heart kicked into overtime, praying that wasn't true. He needed more time, he needed _Sam_.

Sam's hands were shaking as he yanked open a drawer and started rifling through the clothes in the drawer. Finally, giving up he simply walked away from it grabbing his jacket from the chair. "Go... " he barked and stopped dead in his tracks. The presence of the child was burning away at the fuse of his temper. "Dean," his voice softened, "you should... go..." He took a step back, still facing away from Dean - somehow knowing that if he met his eyes everything would change. "I ..." Sam cleared his throat, voice thick and broken. "Thank you, Dean..." Sam's heart thudded out a desperate message to Dean and Sam stuffed his hand into his pocket searching for his truck keys as he spurred himself forward.

"Don't go," Dean pleaded, stumbling after him, reaching out to grab Sam's arm. "Please Sam. Don't... don't turn me away like this. There's something here. I know you can feel it. _Please_ ," his fingers tightened, blood quickening in his veins as he stared at the back of Sam's head.

Heart aching and heavy Sam's chest heaved as he tried to breathe. _The child_ , Azazel's voice loomed loud in his mind. Sam's features crumpled into an expression of pain and he staggered backwards into Dean's body for the briefest of moments. "I can feel it," Sam whispered, "never think...I didn't feel it." He wrenched his arm free and strode toward the door. Everything had changed, taken a sharp turn for the worse in the space of a few minutes. Before he's even aware of it, Sam is in his truck and tearing down the dirt road toward the child. The child he has to give to Azazel. The child whose family Sam must kill.


	4. Chapter 4

"You're such a cutie pie," Kelsey hummed softly to her sixth month old son, rocking him back and forth slowly in her arms. "Momma's little cutie pie, let me see your smile," she sang the words quietly, soothing the baby into a gentle sleep.

"He's handsome," her husband informed as he slid in beside her, arm wrapping around her shoulder, gaze turning down to the boy. Slowly closing blue eyes snapped open; face lighting up in response to seeing the man. "Aren't you son? Handsome, not a cutie pie."

"Calling him a cutie pie isn't going to make him any less masculine dear," Kelsey pointed out to her husband and laughed, shaking her head and twisting a hand around to tap the baby's nose. "Your daddy is silly."

Joshua laughed at his wife and shook his head, scooping the child out of her arms and turning to lay the baby down gently in the middle of the crib. "Don't listen to her Matthew, we men must stick together."

"As long as you don't start grunting and banging your chest," Kelsey huffed, shaking her head as she moved to the changing table to clean up the remnants of Matthew's old diaper and towel from his bath.

Outside the door the floor creaked and she frowned, turning slightly and catching Joshua's stiff shoulders. "Kelsey, get behind me," he warned, voice low, and Kelsey's eyes shifted to the man at the door, growing wide as a shocked gasp fell from her lips. "Get the fuck out of my house," Joshua spat, back straightening to act as a barrier between the intruder and the crib. Kelsey stared at tall man, open coat exposing a bare chest, jeans slightly dirty and rugged. "Kelsey! Behind me!" Her husband snapped once more and Kelsey slid across the room to tuck in behind him.

Sam held his shaking hands out to the side, palms facing the young couple. It had been so easy to find the child once the connection had been made. The problem was the conflicting emotions that tore through Sam's body like razor sharp knives. Dean's words had settled deep inside Sam like lead weights, _You don't have to do it alone. Not now._ But he did, Azazel would kill him, would kill Dean - destroy the only good thing in Sam's life. The thing he couldn't possibly allow himself to have. The fire began in his belly and spiralled out towards his hands, sliding down his arms like lava. If Sam had looked down he could have seen the trail of energy as it built, his skin flushing red and purple as it traveled down his arms to pool in his hands. "Step away... get away from the crib." His voice was dark and cold as he pushed away his doubts.

"No," Joshua spit, shoulders tense as he wrapped an arm around Kelsey to secure her safely behind him. "Get the _fuck_ out of my house," he repeated, words snarled in the anger of a defensive parent.

"What do you want?" Kelsey called, almost lunging past her husband to try and get at the stranger in their home.

Sam's fingers twitched, splaying wide as he raised his hand. "I'm taking the child and..." Sam swallowed, trying to shake off the fleeting image of Dean's face, "I'll kill you if you try to stop me. You'll fail and you'll die." Sam took a step closer, head tilting to the side as he peered down at the child. It was so tiny, small and frail. His eyes snapped back up the father's. "Get out of my way." The burning increased, Sam's fingers crooking almost painfully as he aimed his palm at the father. The glow built slowly, at first, easy to shrug off as an illusion or a simple trick of the light and then it grew. Blazing white and aimed at the father's heart.

Appearing instantly in the room Dean quickly took in the situation, the two parents staring in shock at Sam. Power radiated off the man and Dean inhaled sharply, pulling forth a strength he knew he'd need to stop this before it got out of hand. "Sam," he said in a deadly calm whisper, stepping forward. "I can't allow you to do this," Dean understood the importance of the situation knew that everything was about to spiral up and explode before them. All their past interactions were hanging on this moment.

Joshua and Kelsey's eyes shot to the random appearance of a man, both gasping in unison as Joshua's arms tightened firmer around his wife.

"Dean," Sam hissed, "get out, I have... I have to do this." His arm faltered, lowering slightly as the light faded from his palm. He couldn't live with Dean watching him do something like this... this brutal act. Turning slowly, lip curled unpleasantly Sam locked his eyes with Dean's. "Please," Sam's jaw was twitching, skin stinging with the unreleased power. "Leave, Dean. There's nothing you can do."

"You're wrong," Dean stepped forward slowly, watching Sam's reaction for any sudden movements. His eyes shot to the obviously terrified couple, sympathy curling in him before he fixed his gaze on Sam once more. "Also, you're misunderstanding. This isn't an option. I _won't_ let you do this. Now, come on, let's... get out of here. We can talk, blow off some steam somewhere else," Dean urged, the less force he had to use the better.

Azazel will kill Dean. It ran over and over in Sam's mind. He had to do what he was supposed to do, this one thing, bring Azazel the child and kill the parents. As soon as this was done. Sam's body curled forward briefly as his grief and fear overwhelmed him. Shaking his head he stepped toward Dean. If he could do this, _finish it_ , he could leave and Dean would be safe. Stumbling almost blindly toward Dean he slammed into him, hands grabbing fistfuls of the man's t-shirt and wrenching it almost off him as he tried to swing him through the door. "Get out!" The scream burst out of him shockingly fast, scratching up his throat with the force.

Dean registered the screams, the woman and the baby, possibly the man and knew his time had come. Surging a wave of strength Dean's arm shot out, catching around Sam's shoulder and across his chest. In a flash he pulled Sam from the home, through dimensions and time, through space and particles, away from the possibility of taking one step further down a path of darkness. The moment they stabilized in the middle of a field Dean sucked in a sharp breath. It had been a long time since he'd taken someone else with him and he stumbled back slightly, electricity crackling along the tips of his fingers as he prepared himself for Sam's reaction. Dean already knew this wasn't going to be good but he'd stopped him, and that was what mattered.

Falling to the ground Sam started to crawl away from Dean, crashing to his face then climbing back up onto his hands and knees. "What the _fuck_ are you?" His voice was almost a whisper. He crashed to the ground again, cutting his chest open on a rock and scraping his cheek. He screamed at Dean as he turned to stare up at him from the ground, "what are you?!"

"Stop Sam, you're hurting yourself," Dean moved swiftly forward, reaching out for the man. "I'm not a what. I'm Dean," he provided simply and knelt beside Sam, fingers twitching to heal the cut along his chest. "Look, just take a few deep breaths and we can talk about this." Dean knew it sounded stupid but he'd never had to have this conversation and certainly not with anyone as important as Sam.

"Don't touch me," Sam hissed crabbing his way backwards away from Dean, "don't _you_ fucking touch me." Pressing his hand to the blood dripping down his chest Sam blinked up at Dean, "what was that? What did you do? You shouldn't be able to do that to me." The expression of confusion slid off his face and was replaced by determination. "I have to get the child." Azazel would find him and it would be worse than anything that had come before, _far_ worse. Stumbling up to his feet, Sam swayed there a few moments, dizzy and unsettled. Looking around he almost fell backwards and managed to right himself at the last moment. "Wh..where are we?"

Dean swallowed around the sting of rejection and watched Sam, slowly rising from his kneeling position and rolling his shoulders to ease the building pressure in him. "You're not getting the child. You don't have to anymore. Please Sam, this is your chance. You don't have to be that anymore." Dean looked at him pleadingly, sighing softly when a realization settled over him. _He won't believe you._ A voice whispered in his ear and Dean rolled his neck, snapping out a quick, "I can handle it." Dean's eyes landed on Sam as he blew out a steadying breath. "I've know who you are. From the very moment I met you. I know about Azazel. I know what you are doing and you don't have to any longer Sam. I can help you."

Flinching backwards Sam swiped roughly at his hair trying to push it out of his eyes. "What... what do you know? You don't know..." Sam took a couple of steps backwards his mind filling with the pain of beatings and _education_ , the slashing wounds on his arms. His head kept moving from side to side, palms sweating with heat. "Get... get away from me. You don't know..."

"I do know," Dean insisted, not backing down. He knew he had a fight ahead of him and he stepped toward Sam with determination. "At least let me take care of those cuts, you've already drained so much power today Sam, no need to waste it on healing yourself." Dean tried to smile, extending a hand toward Sam.

Panting, Sam pulled back again eyes blinking furiously as though he was expecting Dean to strike him. "Heal me?" Sam spat the words out, eyes growing impossibly wider. "What _are_ you? Tell me!! Why should I listen to you? Why?" Sam scratched at the cut on his chest only vaguely registering that it was even bleeding. Raising his hand he blinked at it, confused by the blood. "You tell me... why do you know... Azazel?" Sam's brows lifted slightly. "You're working with him... it's how he knew. That's why he... why he punished me." The hurt that welled up in Sam's chest was overpowering and the breath shot out of his lungs. Gasping he doubled over, leaning on his thighs trying to gasp in some air.

"Working with... Azazel?" Dean practically hissed the words and he shook his head roughly, eyes darkening at the suggestion. "Do I seem evil to you Sam? Do you think I drink demon blood?" He snapped the words, pulse quickening as he watched the man. Things weren't going like he planned though Dean wasn't certain he'd ever planned this. "I cared for you. I came to you when he beat you and I _healed_ you. I stopped you from killing more innocent people. How could you even accuse me of working with that _demon_?" Dean could feel that bubbling heat rising in him, churning and coursing, pushing at the edges of his limits.

"I do... did. I drank demon blood. I work with him." Sam dropped his hands to his sides, uncurling his fingers, "so you know I'm _evil_. That is what you think." The last of the hope in him shattered. Dean would never have been with him, even if Sam had managed to get the child. "You lied. You betrayed me... my... I trusted you. I've never trusted anyone." Sam's voice broke and he pushed back up off his thighs. "I must... disgust you." He stepped back slowly. Azazel had done this; he'd caused everything to go so wrong, rotten and foul.

"You don't disgust me," Dean shook his head, inhaling to try and control his haywire emotions. "No one has _ever_ affected me like you have. You're not _evil_ Sam, you've just... you were forced into that life. Azazel took you from your home and he..." Dean swallowed thickly and stepped back. One little slip and he could hear a hum of voices, the invisible presence of all those connected to him. Dean growled in frustration and slammed the wall back up, hands digging into his hair. Without meaning too, Dean let a different barrier drop and in one steady flash wings expanded behind him, flaring only because Dean seemed to be losing his grasp on staying on step ahead of the conversation.

Sam's hand shot up, power flaring within him and sliding back down to his palm. Blinking his eyes against the sudden motion Sam's mouth fell open soundlessly. Staring, he watched his hand shake in front of his face. "Tell me what you are. You're not human." Shivering, Sam lowered his hand slightly, palm still burning with heat. "I'm everything you said was evil. You hate me..." Sam's hatred for Azazel ignited again. He was going to kill him, and if he couldn't find a way to do it - he would die trying. If it weren't for that Demon Sam could have a life. Have love. Have _Dean_.

"I am human," Dean insisted, snapping the words and raising his hands a moment later. "Sorry. Sensitive subject. I am human. I have... I've been bound to an angel that resides inside me. I control him and his powers but he is not me. I was born to a mother and a father... and..." Dean stared at Sam for a long moment before turning away. "I don't hate you Sam. You're human; you had no choice what life you lived. And you can change. I can help you. I've seen it from the very beginning, you're _more_ than Azazel makes you think," Dean stepped toward him once more. "Sam... you mean more to me than you could know."

Sam whispered, "why?" When he lifted his watery eyes to Dean's once more his hands finally dropped to his sides. "Why would I mean anything to you?" He wanted something, a simple reason. It took every ounce of control Sam had to stay his ground, he wanted nothing more than to step into Dean's body and let the man care for him again.

 _You mustn't._ A cold whispering along his system, a voice breaking through, familiar and almost father like. Almost. But this was more important than those bonds. _This_ was everything. "You..." Dean stepped forward once more; softening his stance, knowing what he said now was the most important information. "Azazel killed my parents. When I was only four. He killed my parents and he took my little brother." Dean met Sam's eyes, voice quiet and possibly the most serious it had ever been. "He took my little brother and raised him, made him drink demon blood, beat him, broke him down. Forced him to do his dirty work. Until..." Dean swallowed and shrugged, looking to the side. "Fate, I suppose, intervened."

"F..Fate..." Sam's head tilted as his expression softened momentarily. Shaking his head, he was flooded with so many emotions at once he could hardly breathe, barely function. His knees buckled and he sank down onto them, hitting the ground hard and wincing as a slight moan escaped him. "No..." he shook his head in disbelief. His vision was clouded with images of touching Dean, the feel of his burning flesh under Sam's palm, the way their lips slid together slick and soft. Blinking up at Dean Sam simply murmured, "no," again and again.

This was one thing Dean had known was a risk from the very first moment his lips touched Sam's. One day the inevitable truth would come out and how could Dean possibly explain that, despite the heavenly being in him, had wilfully participated in sex with his _brother_. Dean's logic for the situation at the time had been with best intentions but he knew it didn't make anything right. "It's true," he said quietly and made no move closer. "I'm sorry Sam. I... I wanted to tell you but... how could I? Even now I know you don't believe me but it's... when we touch... that feeling... god I can't even..." Dean shook his head roughly and tried to fight back the fear that he really had ruined every chance they had. "I can show you. The memory of... our parents."

Heart clenching in his chest Sam looked up at Dean. "Show me?" He'd never had a single memory of anyone loving him, no sense of a human life or family at all. Sam had never had anything Azazel hadn't controlled and manipulated. "Show me... how?" He wiped at his face trying to clear his eyes, settled his mind.

Stepping forward Dean dropped beside Sam, watching him like he might bolt at any moment. Which seemed a pretty realistic possibility considering all the information Dean had just piled onto his shoulders. "I'll give you my memory. How I saw it." He hesitated, arm hovering out by Sam. "May I... touch you?" Dean's heart clenched just having to ask the words, wishing they could go back to the gentle, tender caresses from earlier that day. When Sam didn't move away, Dean took it as the closest thing to an answer he was going to get and he reached out, laying two fingers on Sam's temple and focusing in on the memory that generally only haunted him in dreams.

As much as he fought the urge to pull away Sam couldn't help, at the very same time, leaning in to Dean's touch. He closed his eyes, opening his mind as much as he was able.

 _The sound of something loud crashing in the room across the hall woke Dean from an almost sleep and his big brother instincts kicked in automatically. Tiny feet kicked over the edge of the mattress, dancing for a moment along the cold hardwood floor before he walked slowly to the door. A few steps down the hall brought Sammy's room into view. With it came a loud shrill scream and fear prickled through Dean in a flash. "Mommy?" He whispered, hand pressing into the wall as he peered around the door frame into his baby brother's room._

 _It was Sammy's cry that finally gave Dean the strength to step forward into the nursery. An unfamiliar man was standing over the crib and that big brother sense that Dean had been so proud of flared. Dean tried to make himself taller, forcefully refused to look back at the place he was certain his mother's scream had come from. "That's my brother."_

 _The man looked at him and Dean tried not to scream when yellow eyes peered at him, the man's face was angry and mean. Meaner than anything Dean had ever seen. The man looked up sharply and mumbled, "think we'd best be leaving now." Dean watched in horror as he bent over to pull the still crying Sammy from his crib, holding him firmly against his chest. Dean felt helpless as the man walked passed him carrying his baby brother, glancing at him long enough to say, "good luck little guy."_

 _Moments after he'd swept past the doorway Dean screamed, "Sammy!" And turned to run after but something glowed bright and intense between him and the hallway and Dean turned away from the light, shielding his eyes._

 _"Come Dean," the light evened out and a man was suddenly there, holding out his hand and smiling. "Don't worry, I'm gonna look after you know."_

 _"But Sammy," Dean tried to get past him but the man easily scooped him up off the ground. No matter how hard he kicked the man's hold didn't loosen. "My brother! That guy took my brother you gotta stop him!" Then Dean's words cut off as his eyes finally grazed over the lifeless forms of his parents. All the words and cries Dean wanted to get out shut down inside him and he curled into the grip of the strength, a harsh sob shaking his chest before everything vanished._

Dean pulled his fingers back from Sam's forehead sharply, pulling in on himself with a quick inhale, sliding back before Sam could back away. It had been too long since he'd seen that memory and the fresh wave of sadness and fear was too intense.

It was all too much. Seeing faces he'd never seen and yet _knew_ belonged to him. He belonged to them. A family. The force of emotion that slammed into him nearly doubled him over. His hands clawed frantically at Dean's chest as he all but climbed onto his brother, just wanting the comfort of a solid body - someone he _knew_. Sobbing, tears pouring out of him like they hadn't since he was a child. Sam's arms slipped around Dean's neck. "S..Sorry," he mumbled sucking in a breath to just mutter the apology over and over again. He should have fought harder, tried to find someone who knew him. _Tried_.

"Shh, it's okay Sammy," Dean whispered, arms wrapping around his brother and holding him tight. The nickname slid out, comfortable as if he'd been using it his whole life. Truthfully the touch was making him reel, especially in the wake of the memory so fresh in his mind. "I've got you now. It's going to be different. It's-" Dean cut off sharply as he felt the whisper of familiarity. They were coming. And they would try to do what Dean could not. Pulling back slightly Dean curled his fingers around Sam's arms and forced him to look at him, "Sam, it's not safe here right now. The angels... they don't see things like I do and they won't give you a chance. I need to get you somewhere safe. Do you have somewhere I can take you?" Dean's gaze swept frantically over the country side, the need to protect Sam surging up in him strong and intense.

It felt like Sam had been run over by something, his head lolled back slightly on his shoulders as Dean held him back. Mind reeling as he tried to absorb everything Dean's question managed to drill into his consciousness. "A place... my place... my house..." it was the only place he could think of. His lips pressed into a thin line. Azazel, he could find the Demon from there. "Are... will you be okay?"

Dean's lips twitched into a slight smile and he wasted no time in tugging Sam back against his chest. With his energy still sparking mostly out of control it was surprisingly easy to pull through both through that crushing time and space until they stood in Sam's front hall. Dean held him tightly, hand cupping along Sam's cheek. "I'm gonna make sure they don't bother you or I alright? Then I'm gonna come back for you. You... can I come back? Do you still want me Sam?" Dean had never wanted to hear some form of a yes so badly in his life. Now that he had Sam, he wasn't certain he could just let him go.

"Come back..." Sam echoed. He was exhausted, his body wracked by emotion and his unused power still racing through his body. Letting his lashes fall to his cheeks for a few moments Sam nodded mutely and turned his lips into Dean's palm; pressing a kiss there and inhaling the scent of Dean's flesh, his _brother's_ flesh. Heart thundering Sam knew if he managed to find Azazel he'd never see Dean again. "Yes, I want you," he murmured, lips moving against his brother's rough palm. "Yes." Opening his eyes he peered into the flash of Dean's green eyes.

Something warmed spiralled through Dean's chest and he smiled a little more sure, leaning forward to brush their lips together. "I'll try not to be too long. Rest. We... we can talk more when I get back okay?" Dean nodded, kissing him once more, lingering against his lips. Despite the trepidation concerning the soon to come angel conversation, Dean felt relieved, hopeful. Sam didn't hate him, in fact he seemed completely ready to embrace the whole, having a brother thing, and Dean could make that work. "I'll be back soon," he whispered, letting his forehead rest against Sam's even as his fingers loosened their grip.

Sam's fingers trailed down the bare flesh of Dean's chest and he pulled him close for just a few more moments. "Be careful." He pressed heated lips to Dean's temple and pulled back, afraid if he didn't he'd never let the man go. There could be no good-bye, no promises. Sam smiled wearily and took a step back. "I'll be right here."

Nodding, Dean slid back, rubbing along the back of his neck and staring at Sam for a long moment. "I love you Sam," he smiled softly, shook his head and vanished before his brother could say anything on the matter.

-=-=-=-

In quick succession Dean weaved in and out of three different locations, stopping for brief moments each time. This way it wouldn't be completely clear where he'd left Sam and, if any of them broke off to go after him, Dean would have the advantage. Then he was back in the field and facing down the only father figure he had really known. "Arael," he dipped his head in a slight nod and looked behind the angel. "Leo, Karael," Dean noted before fixing his gaze on Arael once more. "I don't suppose you brought the demon entourage because you've made some secret Three Musketeers pact."

Arael's perfectly sculpted brow lifted into a slight arch as he stared at Dean, head quirked just slightly to the side, "Dean. Where is your brother?"

"My brother?" Dean feigned innocence and rolled his shoulders in a shrug, "to whom are you referring?" The look of fake naivety Dean gave the angel was likely to grate his nerves and Dean had to turn away slightly to hide his smile. He was well practiced in the art of annoying heavenly beings.

Proving his theory, Arael sighed in exaggerated annoyance, "Dean, we allowed you to try your way despite the moral implications. Now it is time for you to accept that Sam's time for redemption has passed."

"I think you need to get your angel FM worked on because Sam hasn't _done_ anything. He didn't kill those people or take that baby. And yeah, he's made mistakes in the past but I'm fairly certain I've been listening to the _forgive others_ bullshit for over twenty years now so shouldn't you be practicing what you preach," Dean bristled in defence for Sam. His brother, his lover. Dean wasn't prepared to let any of those things go.

"Where does this anger stem from child?" Arael shook his head as if Dean's words were a person insult to him.

Self righteous pride burned in Dean and he resisted the urge to fold his arms across his chest as he spat, "I am not a _child_."

"And yet you act so much like one," Arael pointed out without hesitation and there might have been just a flash of a smile but the action was so foreign to any of the angels Dean was sure he had to have imagined it. "Dean, you have always known what would be expected of you. From an early age we told you your duty."

"And you wonder where my anger stems from," Dean huffed and rolled his eyes, giving into the urge and crossing his arms over his chest. "Did you really think I was always on board with the idea of killing the only family member I ever had? What's so wrong with giving him a chance?" Dean looked at the angel and his eyes softened, arms dropping as he stepped toward the angel who had raised him. "Arael, there is good in him. He doesn't want to live this life, he doesn't want to be Azazel's demon bitch anymore and I can help him. I can help him get better. We owe to him to give him a second chance. Didn't you say there was good in everyone? Why should Sam be any different?"

"Because Sam has been shaped and moulded by darkness. He was only a baby when they took him. This is the path he was destined for just as you were destined to kill him. It is your burden to bear Dean and I acknowledge how difficult it must be but you must not lose faith. Not now," Arael extended a hand to lie over Dean's shoulder, squeezing. "Have you not always tried for perfection? As a child, when you fell did you not get up? And now as an adult are you not reaching for that perfection? You are an angel Dean and this is the life you will lead."

Dean hissed as he stepped back from the touch, eyes narrowing and fixing hard enough on Arael to make the angel pull back as well. "I am _no_ angel," he spat even as his wings fluttered and stretched out behind him, power sparking along his finger tips. "You may have bound me to this _thing_ inside me but he doesn't have any rule or power over me." Dean's lips turned up in a smirk, "unless you think your angels are endorsing incest now. In which case, you should have let me know, I would have signed up _willingly_."

"We can overlook your impurity," Arael waved off the words though Dean noticed the two angels behind him, Leo and Karael the silent brute squad, flinch. It intensified Dean's smirk and Arael glanced over his shoulder at the two before settling his gaze on Dean once more. "Try as you might Dean, your brother will always remain evil. He has ingested their blood, he accesses their power, he _is_."

The thing about angels, Dean thought, was their tendency to not see things through the eyes of a human. And, when you'd spent nearly your entire life living amongst them, you could see the flaws in their logic. So Dean's smile was only weary and not without a certain level of fondness. "Oh, Arael, have you forgotten who you're talking to?" Dean chuckled and shook his head. "I access your power. I might as well have ingested your blood. God," Dean scoffed and snorted on a laugh as all three angels flinched in unison at their Lord's name taken in vein, "I was given no choice, just like Sam. But now I'm taking my choice and so is he." Dean moved forward and reached out, laying his hand on Arael’s shoulder despite having no desire to connect with the angel. "If you ever had any love for me Arael than you will let me have this. Sam and I have a chance to be content, together. Let me have that."

It was a last ditch plea and one made mainly because Dean had no interest in fighting the angels. He would, if that was what it came down to, ensuring Sam's safety but Dean knew he stood little chance of winning in a battle against three angels. They would consequently have to spend the rest of their lives running and Dean didn't wish that fate on them. He watched with narrowed eyes as Arael looked back at the angel's, studying them before saying a quiet, "go."

"But-" Leo began but one sharp look from Arael stopped him. Dean had to resist the urge to smirk at the angel's deflated look. A moment later the two were gone and Arael's gaze was turning back to him.

"You will always be bound to us Dean. Should you need our help, or should you change your mind, you can call my name and I will come to your aid," he smiled at Dean, a rare sign of affection, and Dean fathomed that the angel did care for him, in some ways. "Be careful Dean."

Dean was truthfully a little surprised at the compassion he saw in Arael's eyes and he swallowed thickly as he stepped forward. Perhaps it was because he was just old enough to remember the father he lost, or because Arael genuinely had cared for him in some way, but Dean thought he might miss the angel. Just a little. And his arms lifted to wrap around the vessel's body, smiling when Arael didn't hesitate in returning the hug. "You better watch out Arael, I think I may have infected you with some of my human."

Arael huffed out something crossed between a laugh and a disagreement. "I will have to take a look at that. I suppose twenty three years with you is bound to make that happen. Dean? What is it?" Arael stepped back, gripping Dean's suddenly tense shoulders.

Something was sparking along his senses and Dean hissed as he slid back. "Sam." It was the only word he was able to spit out before he focused in on his destination and vanished.

-=-=-=-

Less time than the blink of an eye and Dean was gone. Sam blinked a few times and looked around his house. It was a wreck. Furniture and clothes strewn about, the front door hung off-kilter on its frame, the pool of Sam's blood still slowly drying on the hardwood floor.

Sam closed his eyes, shoulders sagging as the air in the room changed. It thickened, becoming almost impossible to breathe.

"It seems I shouldn't have entrusted something quite this important to someone like you, Samuel." Azazel's voice was loud, challenging.

Sam squared his shoulders and turned slowly to face the Demon. "You," he spat, "lied to me."

Azazel let out a throaty laugh, tossing his head back and slapping a hand against his thigh. When he finally managed to regain his composure his yellow eyes focused in on Sam's. "Samuel, you've always been _very_ entertaining, even when you were a little mewling bundle."

"You lied to me and you took me away, from my family." Sam's voice shook with tension.

Azazel paced over to one of the armchairs and lowered himself down into it. "You know what I really hate, Samuel?" He waited a few beats and then continued. "Angels. Those foul flying pieces of filth meddle in everything." Azazel brushed at some dirt on his jacket. "Really complicated things the night I found you. You see," he leaned forward, "you were _so_ special, Samuel. Out of all those hundreds of children I found you were the first one to _lap_ up that Demon blood like it was Mother's milk." A dark grin slid across Azazel's face. "Believe me; my experiments didn't always go so well."

Sam stepped closer, hardly able to believe the ease with which Azazel could speak about it; ruining all those lives. "You've taken everything from me, my family," each time he said the word his heart cracked open a little more. "Dean... my _brother_. I wanted him." Sam swiped at the hair on his face releasing the hold he had over the powers Azazel had gifted him with. "I wanted him and because of you... it's all ruined." Sam's voice was hollow. He'd lost everything. It didn't matter what Dean said now, it was too late for Sam. Azazel had created the perfect weapon: if Dean hadn't intervened Sam would have taken the baby boy from his home that night, would have killed his parents if he'd had the chance. By doing so he would have unwittingly sentenced the baby to the same fate he lived with himself.

 _Fate_. The word drew up Dean's face and Sam shuddered. Stepping forward he held his arms out to the side, fingers spread wide and channelled all his bitterness, all the regret and rage into the power that was building within him.

"Don't be stupid, Samuel." The Demon leaned back in his chair. "You can't hurt me." With a flick of his fingers he sent Sam's body flying across the room.

Back colliding with the wall, Sam's last breath of air shot out of his body. Pain dribbled through his body and tapped at his consciousness in aching throbs.

"I hate you," Sam hissed. He strained hard against the demon's hold over him. "He would have been there for me," he tried to suck in a breath of air, "and now I'll always be broken and wrong and Dean..." Sam's eyes softened. "He's beautiful you know. Inside, he's clean and ... and..." Sam's voice faded away. _He's the complete opposite of me._

Azazel shifted forward in his seat. "Aww Sam, you wanted your happily ever after didn't you? With your brother?" He huffed out a pleased laugh. "How positively demonic of you. Samuel, you just proved that you're a chip off this old block. You _surely_ see that."

Sam's blood ran cold. He wouldn't ruin Dean, wouldn't drag him down and he had no intention of letting Azazel get anywhere near his _brother_. The power swelled up in Sam, burning and throbbing its way down to his hands.

"Samuel!" Azazel stood and waved his hand. Sam's body shot along the length of the wall, crashing through everything in his way and slamming once more into another unforgiving solid wall. The power shot out from his hands glancing across Azazel's shoulder and drawing an infuriated cry from the Demon. Sam's body slid down to the floor in the fraction of a second that the Demon's power waned. He coughed, blood spattering across his lips.

Grabbing the shoulder of his human vessel and wincing Azazel strode forward and crouched down in front of Sam. "You are pathetic and weak. You always were," he hissed. "I can't wait to see the look on your _brother's_ face when he finds you here... dead." Azazel drew his arm back and slammed his fist into Sam's cheek.

Sam was only barely aware of the crack and thud of Azazel's fist against his face. The moment his head slammed back into the wall he lost his battle to stay awake.

"Get away from him," Dean screamed the moment he appeared inside the house, lunging across the room and tackling hard into Azazel, surging power with a burst of wind from his wings. They tumbled across the floor and Dean felt something sharp bend inside him. Gasping loudly he shoved at the demon, trying to crawl across the room. _Sam_ his mind screamed, catching sight of the limp body on the floor.

Panting, Azazel laid on the floor for a few moments the rolled sideways to fling his hand and a burst of power toward the man as he crawled. He only succeeded in knocking Dean to the floor. "It's all over, Dean." Rolling to his feet Azazel leaned hard against the wall turning slowly. "What a joy for me... killing both of you on the same day." He watched as Dean reached toward Sam and laughed long and low.

"No, you're wrong," Dean spat, refusing to believe what the demon was saying. But Sam looked so lifeless and Dean's mind flashed back to his childhood, back to the image of this demon carrying away his baby brother, the dead forms of his parents on the floor. Anger surged strong and heavy through Dean's body and he pulled up all the energy he could muster, spinning on Azazel and stumble crawling forward, pushing to his feet to prepare to fight the man. "I'm going to _kill_ you. Even if I have to kill myself to do it. You're not leaving this house." Dean had never _hated_ so intensely and it burned so brightly in him he could hardly see.

The yellow of Azazel's eyes blazed bright as he held up his hand. "You two never stood a chance, Dean. I should have killed you right after I killed your parents. Oh but then I'd never have had the pleasure of seeing you _lose_ your brother a second time." He raised his hand slowly as though savouring every moment.

 _Dean_. Sam could hear his voice. He'd come back, his _brother_ had come back for him. And, Azazel was going to kill him. Sam's eyes fluttered open, his vision swam but he could see Dean's broad back, the flicker of dark wings swooping up into the air. Azazel's power was crackling through the room like lightening; Sam's skin itched with the sensation of the impending blow. Summoning every ounce of energy he had left in his body Sam shoved up to his feet and launched himself forward to dive in front of Dean's body.

The power left Azazel's hand almost at the very instant Sam managed to slide his body in front of Dean's. Even as he felt the blow of energy slam into his back Sam smiled weakly. _Dean_. He had to get to him, stop the Demon. Sam's body shuddered, his arms flung out to the sides as his body absorbed the blow. Heat burned through his veins and Sam gasped out his brother's name and fell forward into his arms.

Finally, the cocky expression left the Demon's face. It lasted only a few seconds - that fleeting lack of confidence and then Azazel raised his hand to finish the job.

"Sam," Dean growled in anger and shock, catching his brother's body and pulling him in. His eyes shot up to the demon, heat flaring through him. Then, something more, more than just Dean's power. As if he could feel Sam's interlacing with his and Dean clung to the hope that it wasn't too late. Eyes narrowing in cold hatred Dean slapped his hand down hard on Sam's chest and pulled that energy forward, forcing it through his system and slamming it as hard as possible into the demon before him. _Help me Sam. We can kill him_ he desperately called out toward his brother, wanting Azazel dead more than anything else at that moment.

Something shifted within Sam's chest; he felt every muscle in his body quivering as he focused on Dean's thoughts. _Help_. Sam could help. He let himself swim in the comfort of Dean's presence, clinging desperately to consciousness long enough to push every last gasp of power he had forward into his brother's body. The weight of Dean's hand pressed down onto his chest was comforting, soothing, even as the power built pressure within his body.

The flash of heat and light that shot across the room nearly blinded Azazel. The vessels' hands were half way toward his face to cover his eyes when it slammed into him. The crack of energy in the room was so loud that the windows shook the scent of sulpher flooded the air, tangible, crisp and foul. Azazel's face looked momentarily shocked, and then his body sank slowly the ground, crumpling in on itself.

Sam's eyes fluttered open for the briefest of moments as he let his head fall to the side to watch the life drain out of Azazel's vessel taking the Demon with it. Sam rolled back into his brother's body, the heat of Dean's chest. Smooth skin under Sam's lips, his brother's flesh warm and alive. _Alive_. Sam's eyelid closed once more and he felt himself falling away.

"No, no Sam. Hold on," Dean sucked in a sharp breath around the panic. Now that Azazel was gone his attention was wholly focused on Sam and he could feel his brother's life force draining away. "Please Sam. Stay with me, c'mon," Dean dragged him up against his body and held him tight. He had no idea if there would be more demons in Azazel's wake and Dean couldn't take the chance. Summoning up the rest of his remaining energy Dean held Sam tight and pulled them from the house, crushing them through space and time once more.

By the time they appeared in Dean's home he could hardly suck in enough air to scream out a harsh, "Arael!" Dean was drained, could feel the angel bound to him fading, and Sam's body was nearly lifeless. His eyes barely parted to see the appearance of the angel, heart lurching with a few scraps of hope. "P-please... heal him. Don't... don't let him die... please Arael."

Warm hands slid over his body and Dean cried out as Sam's body was pulled from his. He registered the faint heat of energy, the following plush softness of his bed, soothing whispers echoed through his mind but Dean didn't understand them. "Sam..." he murmured, reaching out for his brother, trying to sense him through the darkness. Exhaustion finally took its hold though and Dean sank down into the darkest sleep he'd ever felt.


	5. Chapter 5

Light and shadows burned together in his mind, a slow swirl of confusion. "Is it over?" He asked the angel, feeling its presence.

 _It's never over._ The angel whispered softly, soothing a hand slowly along his being.

"So... you're staying," Dean sighed, feeling foolish that he thought there might be an end to this. That one day he might be free to be himself. The angel didn't answer and Dean turned but he could never find an image, never had been able too. For more than half his life they resided together and he was never more than a figment in his mind, without even a name, meant to be a complete part of him. "Sam? My brother. Is he..."

 _He lives_ the angel confirmed and that soothing stroke rolled down his spine. _You are both weak. Rest more Dean. I shall heal you as much as I can._

Dean hummed softly, secure in the knowledge that Sam was alive. He thought he might feel his brother, there, just beyond his reach, but Dean was weak. It took too much energy to try and pin point him. _Sleep._ The angel encouraged. _He is here. He is safe._

Losing his grip on the moment Dean relaxed back into a blanketing warmth and fell back into unconsciousness.

-=-=-=-

Dean woke with a groan, every muscle in his body pulling in and stretching out as he curved along the mattress. He felt... oddly relaxed. And warm. And the presence of another swirling around his senses. _Sam._ "Sam!" Dean sat up with a gasp and looked around his bedroom with wide eyes. It was mid day though Dean sensed it had been many hours since he was laid in this bed. A soft noise sounded beside him and Dean turned swiftly, eyes fixing on his brother. Lurching forward Dean gathered the man swiftly up against his body, smoothing a hand along the side of his face to brush hair back. "Sam..." he whispered, reassured by the steady thrum of Sam's heart. He could feel it. Every inch of him. Dean swallowed thickly and dropped his forehead against Sam's, letting their breaths mingle together.

Sam didn't want to wake up, didn't want to open his eyes and be torn away from the warmth and comfort there. But he was waking. His body ached slightly as though something had been torn from deep inside him and he stretched his spine out slightly, muscles shuddering as he did. Moaning softly he turned closer to the scent that surrounded him. _Dean_. Sam swallowed, throat feeling as though he hadn't spoken for weeks. "If I..." he whispered, "open my eyes will you still be there?"

A small smile pulled at Dean's lips and he shifted to half lie on Sam's body, pressing a firm weight down into his brother's body. "Mm, you might just have to open your eyes and find out," he chuckled softly and breathed in a slow lung full of Sam's scent.

Forcing his eyelids open Sam blinked a few times, eyes finally settling on the perfect green of his brother's. Sam had never pegged himself as someone with _hope_ , not at all, but seeing those eyes first thing made him realize there might actually be a chance that everything hadn't gone completely wrong. He shivered slight as the vague memories and sensations of the past days started to claw their way back into his mind. Shifting slowly, he looked around. "Azazel..." Sam's body started to tremble almost immediately. It was a visceral response; fear and anger surging through him.

"He's gone," Dean insisted quickly, smoothing a calming hand through Sam's hair. "We killed him. Together." Dean sighed softly and let his thumb drab along one of the frown lines curving Sam's face. "How are you feeling? You... were so close to death..." Dean shuddered at the thought, swallowing thickly at the fear the thought of losing Sam sparked up in him. He was fairly certain they'd both been properly healed but some things were beyond even an angel's power to heal.

"Dea..." Sam's breath hitched in his chest. "He said he was going to kill you. I... I tried to stop him." The frown lines on his face softened, "I stopped him." Sam's head tilted slowly to the side, hands finally smoothing over Dean's back and checking, moving slowly down his spine, back up his sides. "Are you... okay? How..." his voice trailed off as he looked around the unfamiliar room. "Where are we?"

"You saved my life," Dean pointed out, smile growing as he watched Sam. "We're at my home. I... I used a fair bit of the last of my energy to bring us here. And then Arael, my... an angel. He healed you. I believe," Dean shrugged and continued gently stroking Sam's jaw. "I passed out. But... you're better now right?" It seemed like Sam was in a slight shock and Dean tried to pull him back to this reality, calm him with a gentle press of energy.

Sam's eyelids fluttered slightly as warmth pushed into him, sliding through his veins and quelling his fear. "Angels..." he murmured and turned back to Dean. "Will they... he tightened his arms around his _brother's_ waist, "will they take you away? Make us..." The thought of being torn away from his brother once more was only even survivable because Dean was _alive_.

"No, I'm not going anywhere Sam," Dean murmured, curling his fingers under Sam's chin and tilting his head back. Leaning in Dean brought their lips together in a gentle kiss. "It's just gonna be you and me now. Whatever you want. We... we can be whatever... whatever you want," Dean repeated, sighing softly as he let his cheek brush against Sam's, gently trailing a kiss along his skin.

Brow furrowing again, Sam turned into his brother's touch - nosed into his soft curls. "Dean," he whispered close to the man’s' ear. "It's still in me... the blood..." saying out-loud was heart-wrenching. Things would never be simple for Sam. These creatures, had made Sam what he was, trained him and groomed him and _fed_ him their evil. It was still there.

"But it's not you," Dean pulled back slightly, staring down at Sam. "It's _not_ you," he repeated with more force, pressing his hand into Sam's chest above his heart. "You saved my life. You didn't kill those people. You _killed_ Azazel. If you had no good in you, none of those things would have happened. And... and you _feel_ Sam. That... that makes you human," Dean would fight this with Sam as long as it took because he believed it, knew it was true, and if he had to spend the rest of his life convincing Sam he was worth love, than he would.

"You don't know... the things I've done..." _to people_. Sam had caused so much strife, fighting, injury and pain. Just because he was bored or lonely or in some crazed way trying to reach out for something that actually made him _feel_ something. It was inexcusable and Sam felt even worse when he compared himself to the way his brother must have lived. "I would have... I would have taken him that child - and I would have done the same thing that was done to me. What... what if I'd never met you?"

"It doesn't matter what _if_ Sam, the point is that you did." Dean slowly sat, tugging Sam up so their eyes could lock. He shifted across the mattress until his legs pressed against Sam's and his hand extended to cup Sam's jaw. "Listen to me, it's going to take time, and I understand... how difficult it will be. But this is your chance; you can have a fresh start. And I'm going to help you in whatever way you need." Dean's thumb brushed along Sam's skin, eyes soft as he watched him.

"So..." Sam rolled his bottom lip under his teeth for a few moments then let it go, "you'll stay with me." Something in Sam's heart started to unfold, spread out and let go. "Stay..." his fingers curled hard into his brother's back.

Dean chuckled softly and let himself be pulled onto Sam's lap, "of course I'm gonna stay. Where else would I go?" Dean sighed softly and gently brushed a kiss to Sam's temple. "I've been waiting my whole life for you," he whispered, arms wrapping around Sam's body.

"Oh... okay." Sam's mind was spinning. He didn't know who he would be if he wasn't the person that Azazel had moulded him to be. Blowing out a breath he pressed himself against Dean's body everywhere he could, desperate for the warmth, the solidity. "That's... this is fuckin' scary..." his voice was barely above a whisper.

Holding him close Dean nodded, stroking a hand up through Sam's hair. "I'm gonna be here, for every step. Whenever you need me...for whatever," Dean murmured softly. He realized he was putting himself out there, so easy to break from this place, but he didn't care. Dean needed Sam to know that he'd take that chance for him.

"For whatever..." Sam tore his eyes away from Dean's looking over his shoulder toward the window. "Azazel said... I wanted you... like... because," Sam struggled with the words, "because I'm all fucked up - wrong... he said _this_... wanting you the way I did... do..." Sam swore softly and shifted back a little.

"Sam," Dean gripped his shoulders, sighing heavily as he shook his head. "While what we have with each other doesn't necessarily fit into the usual moral standards... I... I spent my entire life living amongst angels. Angels who healed us both, knowing how we care for each other, what we've done. Azazel... he wanted to hurt you. He wanted to _kill_ you and he would have..." Dean sighed once more, rubbing along the back of his neck as he trailed off.

Sam chewed on the flesh of his bottom lip, thinking, trying to sort everything out and understand what he was supposed to do with what was left of his life. His eyes moved slowly back to Dean's as his hands slid up his brother's back to hook under his arms. Straining his neck up he pressed his lips to Dean's, sliding them gently back and forth for a few moments. By now the spark of heat the ignited within him was almost familiar and certainly welcome. He tried to bury his worries, the feeling that he wouldn't ever be enough for Dean.

Falling down into the kiss Dean forced the pace to remain slow though the sudden need to touch every inch of his brother felt overwhelming. He moaned softly as their tongues gently passed together, swirling in a slow circle. "Sam..." he murmured into the kiss, shifting to lie completely over Sam's body, pressing him down into the mattress. "You know that..." Dean broke the kiss, forehead resting against Sam's as his eyes closed, "I'm really okay... if you need to take time, if you'd rather we not touch for awhile, I can... well it'll suck but I can handle it. You don't owe me anything." Dean's chest seemed to burn against Sam's, heat flaring through him.

Sam pulled back a little, brow furrowing. He loved feeling Dean's weight pressing him down, grounding him. Right then, there was nothing else for Sam to go on, just the sensation of flesh and the crackling of energy between them. "Want to touch...” he whispered, lips sliding easily along Dean's jaw so Sam could flick his tongue across his brother's ear lobe teasingly. "M'good at this, I can make you feel good..." he murmured.

Moaning slightly at the spark of pleasure from Sam's tongue, Dean nodded, "yeah... you definitely can do that." Dean's hands slid between them, trailing along Sam's still bare sides. "I think I can make you feel good right?" Dean chuckled softly, rolling his hips down slightly and cutting off in a moan.

"Y..Yes," Sam breathed the word out against Dean's ear then sucked in a quick breath as their bodies rolled together. "D..Dean..." Sam's hands were moving frantically over the man's back, tugging, trying to pull him closer. It was insane to want someone so much. Sam didn't know how to be tender, gentle, he just knew how to take from people - take what he wanted. "I... Dean...." He buried his face into the crook of Dean's neck again, panting softly, struggling with everything.

"Shh, it's okay..." Dean whispered and pulled back slightly, dropping slow and languid kisses along Sam's neck. "Let me take care of you," he urged against Sam's flesh, dragging his tongue down the center of Sam's chest, mapping out curves of muscles. Dean wanted to _show_ Sam that he was worth it. He wanted Sam to feel the way Dean cared for him, possibly even loved him, and touching him seemed like the best way to do that. Dean sucked on the skin above Sam's belly button, dipping his tongue into the crevice as his fingers worked below his chin to tug at the button.

Sam's body reacted immediately, arching up off the bed as his spine bowed to press harder into Dean's mouth. As Dean's mouth worked its way down his body, Sam's skin quivered to life the muscles of his abs clenched and drew back from the teasing sensation of Dean's tongue. Small noises slipped past his lips, gasps, moans, Sam didn't care. His jeans were tight across his hips, pulled taut by his arousal. Just being this close to Dean, feeling the heat and weight of his body made Sam _want_. Shifting restlessly he stretched his arms high up above his head, hands bumping into the headboard then gripping it tightly. The way Dean touched him was overwhelming. It was gentle and almost completely without the urgency Sam was used to. Teasing, light, caring. Everything that Sam wasn't accustomed to. Moaning out his brother's name softly he twisted his spine to the side, grinding his crotch across Dean's body seeking out the relief of friction.

Rolling his lips together Dean pulled back enough to tug at Sam's jeans, climbing off the bed slowly as he pulled both the denim and the cotton down over Sam's thighs. "Do you trust me Sam?" He asked quietly, looking up at his brother as he stepped off the bed and tossed the material to the side. Climbing back between his spread legs Dean reached out to curl his fingers over Sam's ankles, massaging slowly up to the calves as he crawled up the mattress.

Sam's eyes fluttered open and he pushed himself up onto his elbows to look down at his brother with bleary eyes. "I..." Sam tilted his head, licking his lips nervously, "I trust you." As he watched Dean crawl up his body, closer, Sam's breath hitched again in his chest and he let his head fall back. He shuffled his legs slightly, restless for more touch.

A small smile pulled across Dean's lips as something warm spiralled up in his chest. Stopping at Sam's crotch Dean bent do nuzzle along the base of his cock for a moment, sucking at the skin for a moment before pulling back. "I want to show you... how I care for you..." Dean murmured as he crawled back up Sam body, dropping random kisses as he moved. Shifting across the mattress Dean tugged his nightstand drawer open and retrieved a small bottle, dropping it beside Sam's hips before pushing back to sit on his heels. Dean's eyes were fixed on Sam as he popped the button on his jeans, dragging the zipper down over his semi-hard cock. "I want you to feel me," Dean whispered, curling his thumbs into his waist line and pushing down slightly.

Dropping his hands tentative on to Dean's chest Sam's eyes widened slightly and he nodded mutely. His eyes moved down Dean's chest, following the dusting of hair below his belly button as he watched him un-do his jeans. Pushing himself up Sam slid his hands over the swell of Dean's hip bones as they appeared from under the denim. His breath shuddered in his chest as the pads of his thumb slid up the smooth flesh of Dean's arousal.

Instinctively Dean's hips moved up into Sam's touch, eyes fluttering for a moment as pleasure shot up his spine. "Sam..." he murmured and reached up to thread his fingers through Sam's hair on either side, letting them interlock behind his brother's head. Pulling gently Dean tipped Sam's head back and brought their lips together, tongue snaking forward to map every inch of his mouth. After several long moments Dean pulled back from the kiss and slid off the bed, shoving his jeans and boxers down before climbing back toward Sam. Already his heart was racing, blood pulsing in his veins, and Dean was fairly certain he wanted Sam more now than he ever had.

As soon as Dean was back, settled between his thighs Sam slid his hands back around his hips and down over his ass pulling him closer. He tilted his head back again, lips pressing to the bottom of Dean's chin. He nipped at his brother's jaw, "Dean... _more_..." It was the only word that kept racing around in Sam's mind. It was a sweet kind of torture taking things so slowly but he wanted Dean to k now that he wanted him, he wanted to forget everything else for a while. Sam's palms were rough against the smooth flesh of Dean's ass and his lips twitched into a slight smile as he felt Dean's cock full and warm against his ribs.

"Soon," Dean ensured softly, hands sliding through Sam's hair. "I think I may be a little addicted to your hair," Dean murmured, smiling playing across his lips as his body moved up into Sam's. Dipping down, Dean's hands slid along Sam's neck, over his shoulders then smoothing along his chest. With a gentle nudge he managed to push his brother down on the bed, laying his weight over him and moaning softly as their cocks lined up and slid together. "Jesus..." he whispered, slanting an open mouthed kiss across Sam's lips.

Sam's lips parted as he swallowed Dean's whisper, one arm snaked around his brother's neck, the other sliding into the valley at the bottom of his back. Silky, smooth skin so hot and responsive under Sam's touch. He wrapped his long legs over Dean's, locking their bodies together. Moaning softly he slid his tongue forward in broad sweeps around Dean's mouth.

Dean's arm snapped out, fingers curling into the bed sheet until he finally curled around the bottle of lube and brought it forward. Pushing back slightly he caught his lower lip between his teeth and bit down hard as he slicked his fingers. "I want to bury myself in you," Dean murmured, sliding down Sam's body and sucking kisses into his flesh. Dean's fingers sought out the ring of muscle, wondering if Sam was okay with this, if he'd ever let himself bottom for anyone before.

It was never something that Sam had even considered. His whole life had been about power, controlling people then getting what he wanted and getting rid of them. His hips rolled up into Dean's kisses, "anything... you want..." he murmured. After all they'd been through - Sam wouldn't deny Dean anything he wanted.

"Do you want it?" Dean asked quietly even as the tip of his finger pressed firm against Sam's entrance, slowly slicking the flesh. His free hand curled loosely around Sam's cock, lazily dragging up as the tip of his finger pushed in. It was tight, almost too tight it seemed for Dean to fit inside, and Dean watched his brother for any signs of him pulling away. The last thing he wanted was to force Sam in anyway and he was trying as hard as he could to show that gentle, tenderness with each touch.

Sam rolled his face away, chest heaving as he tried to breathe. His fingers were gripping the sheets below him, tugging and pulling as his body twisted. It was a strange sensation, Dean's finger sliding slick and hot against his flesh. "Dean...” he murmured, closing his eyes as desire washed over him. Sam didn't ask for things, he took them; his body quivered under his brother's gentle touches. "Want... you..." he mumbled, head lolling back so he could face Dean, stare up into his eyes. Prying his fingers off the sheet he reached out, spine curving forward so his fingers could trail down Dean's chest.

Swallowing thickly Dean pushed his finger the rest of the way in, feeling Sam's muscles clamp down hard around the digit and draw it in. Shifting so his legs straddled Sam's thigh, Dean dropped down and caught Sam's lips in a deep kiss as his finger crooked inside him, stretching him. Dean could almost hear Sam's racing heart, could feel the heat radiating off him in thick waves, and the urge to rock his hips forward into Sam's body was too irresistible to ignore. Moaning into the kiss Dean twisted his finger, pulled back and slid his second one forward in one long, deep thrust.

The burn was almost too much at first and just as Sam was getting his breath back, there was another finger and Sam's spine twisted and writhed on the bed. His lips slid wet and clumsy across Dean's mouth, hand reaching up to dig into his brother's muscular shoulder. The way Dean's muscles moved, as he bent and twisted above him was the hottest thing Sam had ever seen or felt. He mumbled his brother's name into their kiss, shivering as the burning paid faded away and was replaced by want. Arching his body up into Dean's he pushed back against Dean's finger, hips rolling from side to side restlessly.

Dean was surprised by how responsive Sam was, the eager, almost needy look on his face, and Dean's heart swelled. "Fuck you're gorgeous," Dean murmured and spread a slow wave of kisses along Sam's face, sucking on Sam's neck to pull blood to the surface. Twisting his wrist and spreading his fingers, Dean worked the flesh beneath him, sucking in quick breaths through his nose to ease the extreme level of want surging up in him. Once he was certain Sam was feeling no more pain from his fingers, he pulled his hand back and pressed just the tip of three along his entrance. Dean pushed up enough to watch Sam's face as his fingers broke the muscle, edging in slow inch by inch.

Sam slammed a hand back down onto the bed, the other grabbing onto Dean's hair. "Dean...” he hissed. _Fuck_ it ached. Burning like he'd never felt that somehow bled into pleasure so quickly Sam was left with his thoughts spinning through his head. Sam dropped his head back onto the bed, extending his neck, arching up off the bed in the most sinful mixture of pain and pleasure. Tugging on Dean's hair he pulled his brother's lips to his neck, felt every teasing inch of his flesh they slid down. Heat was building within Sam's body, his skin felt flushed and he slid his hand up over his own hip to drag his palm down the underside of Dean's cock. The feel of his brother's swollen shaft, so heavy in his hand tore a needy moan out of Sam's throat. "Please," he begged, fingers curling around his brother's cock and sliding slowly.

The heat from Sam's touch sparked Dean into motion and he shifted back, pulling his fingers from Sam's body and fumbling forward for the lube once more. As he slicked himself with quick strokes Sam began to turn and Dean's free hand dropped the bottle and shot out to pin his hips down. "No, stay like this. I want to see your face," he wet his lips and slid his hand back to nudge at Sam's legs until the man lifted them, curling them up into his chest. He'd never wanted something _so_ badly and as Sam's flesh was exposed to his eyes Dean's heart seemed to skip a beat. "Fuck..." he said through gritted teeth, body shifting forward until the tip of his cock slowly dragged along Sam's crease. Dean's eyes shot up to Sam's features as he finally lined himself up, gently pushing forward, whole body nearly vibrating with restrained pleasure.

Sam could feel the heat of a blush flooding up his neck and cheeks. He felt wide-open, exposed and had never put so much trust in anyone. Fighting the urge to look away, break away from the dark gaze that was locked with his, Sam bit down hard on his bottom lip. Looping his arms around his knees he pulled his legs back and licked his lips nervously as excitement skittered through his body. Dean's skin was flushed, his chest glistening with a slight covering of sweat. The man's lips were perfect, full and dark, slick and shining. Sam's cock twitched as the head of his brother's shaft slid cool across his opening. Blinking up at Dean he closed his eyes, hips canted up to allow the other man access, "Dean...” he murmured. "I want you..."

Dean's head tilted back with a groan and his hips jerked forward slightly, pressing hard along Sam's crease. Growling in frustration he shifted once more and lined himself up, rocking his hips forward slowly. The seal of muscle broke along his flesh and Dean sucked in a sharp breath as Sam's body seemed to instantly pull the tip in, clamping down hard around him. " _Jesus Christ_..." Dean moaned loudly, curling his fingers into the back of Sam's thighs to keep his body from simply slamming down hard into Sam. Shoulders shaking Dean hunched forward slightly, letting his body sink forward slowly, pleasure shooting up his spine in giant flashes that blurred Dean's vision.

"Oh... _fuck_..." Sam sucked in breath through his parted lips until his lungs ached. He was so full, more than he'd expected. A burning sting was all he could feel for a few moments. Slowly dragging his eyelids open Sam slid his hand down to thread his fingers through his brother's where they gripped onto his thigh. It felt like Dean was moving in slow motion and Sam twisted as much as he could, tilting his up to slide Dean deeper, further, _more_. "You... you're...” His eyes were moving over Dean's face, memorizing all the details as though he were afraid he might never see something that gorgeous again. "You're... mine..." There were a million other words he could have used, but it was the word that seemed to be hovering on the tip of his tongue.

The word sent a surprising jolt of pleasure through Dean and his hips snapped forward, burying him completely in Sam's body in one quick thrust. "Yes..." he gasped and pushed Sam's legs wide enough apart to collapse onto his chest and tug him forward for a deep kiss. "Yours, only yours," Dean murmured into the kiss, forcing his lips to remain still so Sam could adjust to the sudden intrusion. Heat was pulsing along his cock, muscles holding tight around him, and Dean had to pull a breath in sharply through his nose to keep from coming right on the spot. "And you..." he finally managed to gasp, tongue flicking along Sam's lower lip. "You're... mine..." he moaned as his hips slowly circled down into Sam's body.

Sam's lips puffed out against Dean's as the breath rushed out of his lungs. He tried to speak but all that came out of his throat was a half moan, half growl that ended when he lunged up off the bed to crush his mouth against Dean's. Wet and messy, his lips moved against Dean's quickly, frantically. He chased Dean's tongue with his own, then bit down on the man's bottom lip trying to tug him closer. Suddenly unsure of himself Sam pulled back, an uncertain smiled tugging at the corner of his lips as he panted softly. "Y...You can... move," he breathed out softly.

"Thank god," Dean huffed, smirking slightly before pulling back. He withdrew almost completely from Sam's body before slowly sliding in, feeling Sam's muscles ripple along his cock with each inch forward. Dean's head dropped as pleasure coursed through him, quiet and deep moan reverberating through him. Dean repeated the action in several slow, deep thrusts, all the way out and gentle glide forward. "So fuckin'..." he growled and half pulled back before slamming forward, needing _more_ , needing everything Sam had to offer. Dean's grip returned to Sam's thighs, tightening to gain more leverage to slam himself hard forward into unforgiving heat.

Each time Dean thrust into him, Sam's breath caught, his body thrumming with heat and want and a million other things he'd probably never felt before. His cock was aching where it lay full and thick against his belly and Sam moaned, reaching down to curl his fingers around it, squeezing tightly. Everything in his body was wound up tight like he was ready to fly apart at any second. He murmured small sounds, noises, couldn't even be bothered to try and form words anymore. All he could focus on what the way Dean was pounding into him, the heat and _need_ that rippled through his body.

Dean was transfixed by the way Sam moved beneath him, a constant writhing mess that quickened his pace. Dropping his hands to Sam's ass he heaved the man up slightly and angled down, searching for the bundle of nerves he knew would send Sam over the top. Sam seemed to know exactly when to clench around him and Dean could already feel his orgasm pooling low in the pit of his stomach, shoving him roughly toward the edge. "Sam..." he growled and thrust hard forward, scooting the man further up the mattress and letting himself fall almost out before driving forward hard.

White light shot through Sam's mind. Pleasure cut through him so sharp he held his breath as his body shuddered up, arching off the bed. "Dean...” he murmured, "do... that..." _again_ and _again_. He thrashed about for a few moments, not knowing whether he wanted more of that sparking fire or less. "Again," he finally murmured, eyes glazed and voice thick. Sam's fingers were barely moving on his own hard flesh, but still, he could feel his orgasm creeping forward, inching it's was toward exploding within him.

Holding Sam in place Dean angled his hips in the same way, slamming almost in repeat against Sam's prostate. He sucked in sharp breaths, holding them through each pull back and rough shove forward. Dean's pace took on an almost feverish quality, thrusts hard enough to slap their skin together with a slick, slapping sound. Sam's moans were shooting straight through his body to his cock, making it twitch with each drive in and his vision blurred to almost black. "Come for me Sam..." he growled, fixing his blurry gaze on Sam's hand stroking his cock in quick glides.

Sam felt like he would die, his heart was hammering so hard in his chest it was almost painful. Dean's words slammed into his brain sending shivers down his spine. _For me_. Crying out Sam grabbed hold of Dean's arm, nails digging into his brother's flesh hard. His cock throbbed hard, balls tight and aching and he came; come pulsed up over his hand, his stomach, reaching his chest as his fingers continued to work through his release. Even half conscious with pleasure he could feel his ass tighten around Dean's cock, gripping him, the heat of his brother so deep within him.

Watching Sam fall apart was very possibly the hottest thing Dean had ever seen. He last one half a dozen thrusts longer, jerky and shallow before his orgasm tore through him. Dean's shoulders shook with the intensity of his release, coursing through him in thick and heavy waves. Pumping his hips forward through each stuttering wash of his release, Dean moaned his brother's name, eyes falling closed. Finally he collapsed down onto Sam's body, feeling the warm slick of Sam's come smearing into his body. Tilting his head up Dean curled a hand around Sam's neck and brought him forward to bring their lips together in a gentle and warm slide.

He was shocked, the way he could feel Dean come - hot and pulsing inside him. He couldn't help the way his muscles clenched tighter around his lover, holding him, keeping them together. Groggy and almost incoherent Sam shifted slightly then let his arms fall to his sides. His lips moved slowly across Dean's, sucking and licking as he tried to catch his breath. Exhausted and aching Sam moaned softly into his brother's mouth. "Fuck..." he whispered, lifting his hand weakly to curl over the back of Dean's neck.

Dean hummed in agreement, gently brushing their lips together before shifting to drop his head in Sam's neck. He could feel his body around every inch of him, pleasant heat soaking into his muscles. "God that was just..." Dean trailed off, not really capable of describing how amazing it was. Something relaxing and soothing was soaking into his muscles and Dean sighed, almost blissful, hands gently sliding along every inch of Sam he could reach.

Sam's lips moved slowly over Dean's face, cheeks, the tip of his nose, his jaw. He didn't know how to tell him about the up swell of emotion inside him, the spark of hope that might mean they could make things work. He settled for rolling Dean off of him, moaning softly as his brother's cock slipped free of his body. Sam flopped himself half over Dean's chest a soft smile on his lips. "Hope..." he sighed, "your angels don't come back for a while..."

Chuckling softly Dean shook his head and wrapped his arms around Sam's body. "They won't come unless I call them," he murmured then his laughter grew, head tipping back into the pillow. "Obedient little fuckers." Dean snorted his amusement, palm gently rubbing down Sam's back, massaging along his spine. Sighing softly he nudged at Sam to get him to move, "gotta clean us up or we'll stick to each other."

Laughing softly Sam rolled over onto his back. "Can think of worse things," he murmured. He watched his brother's body, as he shifted toward the edge of the bed. "Dean?" Sam's reached out across the bed to graze his brother's thigh.

Stopping with his legs dropped over the bed Dean turned to him, small smile on his face, "yeah?"

"You promise?" Sam's eyes widened smile fading just a little.

Leaning in toward him, Dean caught Sam's chin in his fingers and brought their lips together in a gentle brush. "Yeah Sam, I'm not going anywhere," he deepened the kiss for a moment before sliding back. "Except to get a wash cloth." Dean grinned at him before climbing off the bed and heading out of the room. It made him slightly sad, to see how damaged Sam was, and angry enough to wish Azazel was alive still just so he could kill him once more. Dean would do whatever he had to prove to Sam that there was no place else in the world he'd rather be.

A few minutes later he returned to the room carrying a damp wash cloth and a couple of beers. Setting the drinks to the side he nudged Sam over and gently wiped at the cooling come on his body, ensuring he was clean before dragging the cloth over his own body. Plumping his pillow up against the headboard Dean settled against it, tugging Sam up to his side and reaching out to snag the beers from the nightstand and offer one to Sam. "Probably not the best drink of choice but, it's in celebration," he chuckled, popping the top with a flick of his finger.

Smile growing again Sam reached up and tousled Dean's hair, messing it up even more than it already was. "There," he mumbled, "been dying to do that." He knew that Dean could feel what he was feeling. The relief that was slowly creeping through Sam's body was drowning out the fear of the unknown ahead of them. He took the beer and pushed himself up so he could lean back beside Dean. Opening his beer he grinned at his brother. "What are we celebrating?" His fingers curled over Dean's thigh; he didn't want to stop touching him.

"Everything I suppose," Dean said with a shrug, draining half the beer and wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. "You and me mainly. That's worth celebrating," Dean grinned and leaned heavily against Sam's side. "So... you still believe in fate?" Dean asked, eyebrow lifting in time with his smirk.

Smiling, Sam looked down at his beer. "I believe in _you_." He swallowed and ran his thumb along his bottom lip. That was more than he'd believed in for a _very_ long time.

"Well, that's all that matters then," Dean chuckled and turned enough to capture Sam's lips in a kiss. "I believe in you too," he murmured against Sam's lips, slowly releasing the wall he kept so carefully guarded in his mind, letting Sam _feel_ him.

Sam's eyes widened for a moment, and then closed slowly. His lips parted in a gasp as the essence of Dean moved through him. Swaying slowly as his muscles relaxed under the soothing sensation, Sam let himself fall against Dean's shoulder. " _There_ you are," he murmured.

"Sorry, it's habit, I have to usually block everyone out," Dean murmured, shifting his arm around Sam's back, fingers curling into his upper arm. "I'll try not to do it around you anymore, but you'll have to remind me if you can't feel..." he sighed quietly and let his head rest against Sam's, falling into silence as he enjoyed the almost tangible mix of their powers together.

"I like it..." Sam's voice was soft, "you here." Sam tapped his temple. "I can..." Sam pressed his lips together for a few moments. " _We_ can do this." He wouldn't give up Dean without a fight. Not now. Not ever.

"We can," Dean murmured softly, letting his arm extend to set his beer on the nightstand, reaching out for Sam's a moment later and setting it beside him. "Sam, I know you were mostly unconscious when we took out Azazel, but... that power... it was both of us. I have this feeling there's a lot more we can do," Dean mind reeled with the different ideas and, for the first time since waking, he felt the angel within him stir slightly, obviously agreeing with his ideas of what type of power Sam and he might have together.

"I could feel it," sure it was a bit of a blur but he remembered, he remembered pushing his power towards his brother. "So, maybe you could teach me..." Sam's brow furrowed, "how to do better things?" He lifted his chin so he could see Dean's face, before he could sense the man's thoughts and feelings he'd grown so used to searching his face for evidence of how he felt.

"Yes, we can do that," Dean nodded and smiled, covering a yawn with his hand a moment later. "But not for awhile. And we'll go slow. Now though, I'm voting for a nap, food, and more sex. Sound good to you?" Dean smirked, already sliding down on the mattress and tugging Sam with him.

He could feel happiness flooded across him from Dean. "Doesn't feel like I have much of a choice." Slipping an arm over his brother's chest Sam leaned his head down on Dean's shoulder. A long road... but at least he wouldn't be walking it alone. Smiling, he pressed his lips to the side of Dean's chest.

"Nope, I've been waiting years to pull the big brother card," Dean chuckled, squeezing Sam tightly. "Are you complaining?"

Shaking his head Sam pressed up as close as he could to Dean's side. _He wasn't complaining at all_

 _"Yeah, thought not," Dean chuckled and peeled his eyes open to peer at Sam with a warm smile. Things couldn't get much better than this, though Dean knew they _would_ and that made excitement tighten in his heart._


End file.
